"You really don't have to walk me to class Ginny." She insisted, walking side by side the determined red-head.
"Just because you got stuck with that ferret doesn't mean that I have to just idly stand by." Her arm snaked its way around Hermione's, linking the two together as some show of force.
The walk to the dungeons was always so dreary, the torches on the walls licking the hallway with shadows.
As much as Hermione was determined to be independent, she was glad for Ginny's company as they made the trek to the potions classroom. She rounded the corner and Ginny made a fierce eye contact.
"If that snake tries anything or upsets you in any way, tell me immediately. Although I'll have to wait until after the game on Thursday to hex him." Ginny promised, a fiery sureness in her eyes.
Hermione promised, turning to enter the classroom door. She took a deep breath before sitting down, noticing that her platinum partner wasn't there yet. Taking a look at her watch, she saw that there were a few more minutes before class began.
She pulled her half of the ingredients out of her bag and decided to re-read the instructions to prepare while she waited.
Hermione was lost in her book when he arrived.
"Good afternoon Granger. I see you got your ingredients." Even though he hadn't said anything annoying, Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes at him.
"Of course, I did Malfoy." She responded curtly. Even when he wasn't being purposely annoying his very presence made her brew with anger. His smug expression didn't help either.
She knew that the only way that she could tolerate this semester was to focus on her potions. Malfoy's seemingly amused expression was suddenly dropped as he looked intently at the instructions.
Hermione couldn't help but look at him when he did this. Her contempt slowly fading as she watched his expressions. He scrunched up his nose at a particularly difficult instruction just like she did when she was stumped.
Content with his understanding of their assignment, he passed her the list. She expected a sly comment, but she suspected he wouldn't say anything with Professor Abignail so close. That woman was like a bat, and she would not hesitate to deduct hundreds of house points if she felt that something unsavory was going on.
The hour passed rather quickly with the potion progressing well. They hardly spoke a word to one another and by the end of the lesson they had fallen into an uneasy pattern. She would mix the potion while Malfoy prepared the ingredients. His technique, she begrudgingly noticed, was absolutely spectacular.
At the class's conclusion Abignail walked around informing the pairs whether their potion was up to snuff. Theirs earned a stern nod and a "Satisfactory." Hermione could feel the air entering her lungs, she hadn't noticed she'd been holding her breath.
She began to gather her things, and Malfoy did the same.
"Good job." He murmured as he moved past her through the door. She was startled to say the least. She convinced herself that she had misheard. It was the only logical answer.
Later that Day -
Seeing the excitement in Ginny's eyes almost made up for the fact that now Hermione was definitely going to have to attend all of the Gryffindor quidditch games for the year.
"I mean it really was a no-brainer. Who else would've made a good captain? Hilly? Most definitely not." Ginny shone while she talked. She'd talked about becoming a professional quidditch player before, but she seemed to be getting more and more serious about it every day.
"I'm glad for you Ginny, but does this mean I have to go to every game?" Hermione posed, knowing the answer, but hoping for a different one anyway.
"As my official best friend in the world, it is an absolute requirement." She wrapped her arms tightly around the other girl's upper body, pulling her into a tight hug. "Also try to get some pictures for Harry. He'll be so excited to hear the news."
That was the understatement of the century, he wanted Ginny to become famous, so people would start ignoring him. He was the president of the fan club for Ginny becoming a professional. He hoped that when the dust settled a little bit more, he would be forgotten.
Harry, now that he'd started his training to be an auror, loved the relative obscurity he had fallen into. Not that people didn't still notice the Boy Who Lived popping off to the lou or queuing up for a sandwich in the cafeteria, but the direct floo between the ministry and 12 Grimmauld Place made it convenient to avoid most of the Prophet's more precocious journalists.
Neville joined them then, having come from the herbology greenhouse. He was so busy now that he was assisting Professor Sprout with her garden. If you could even qualify that hellscape as a garden. In Hermione's opinion, any place with man-eating plants can hardly qualify as a garden.
"What's all this excitement about?" He asked, grabbing a roll and spreading some butter.
"Now you've done it." Hermione muttered jokingly, faux rolling her eyes.
While Ginny recounted the thrilling tale of the 15-minute meeting where she was chosen to captain the Gryffindor team, Hermione found her eyes wondering around the Great Hall.
She sometimes liked to look for familiar faces. It was still early in the year, but she was stunned at how few of her classmates had come back. The Ministry, after the war was over, decided that students who missed the rest of the year could just take their NEWTS over the summer. Hermione had not been enthused about that option. She had missed Hogwarts during the war, although she didn't regret helping her friends.
She knew she had to come back to really learn everything she could from the sacred halls. Looking around though, she was reminded of the toll the war took. At the Hufflepuff table, there would have been a number of girls her age happily gabbing about the latest gossip. However, their place was filled with new faces. Of those five girls, two were dead and the other three had decided not to come back.
The physical cost of the war on the old castle had been repaired, but it was in the eyes of her classmates that the true cost could be seen. The younger students were flighty, over-cautious, and protective. She tried not to notice how they only moved in groups, nor how young they were to have the stern looks of fear on their faces. Sometimes she could pretend nothing had changed, but then she would look at the empty spaces at her table, and she couldn't pretend any longer.
She looked around again, sweeping her eyes across the Great Hall. She hadn't been looking for him, not actively anyway, but nevertheless her eyes stuck on that sickening head of blonde hair. While Gryffindor's table was definitely not full, the Slytherin table was almost deserted. Most of the students had been too afraid to come back the children of the imprisoned or disgraced. Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle, and of course Malfoy had been the only Slytherins to return from her year. Altogether, Malfoy's merry band of pureblood lackeys made up almost a third of the returning students.
She stared at him for a moment, studying him. He was nothing like he seemed the past years of her experience at Hogwarts. Proper and pureblooded, she was sure she had never seen him slouch so much before. While his friends sat in a group around him, he didn't feel like he was a part of their conversation. They all laughed at something Pansy had said, but he stayed firmly as he was; allowing for a small smirk before returning to his mask of indifference. Nott whispered something in his ear, and then suddenly his eyes were on hers. A nearly silver blue-grey, she found herself paralyzed by his gaze. The scowl he put on chilled her, and she felt a shiver down her spine.
"Hermione are you even listening to me?" Ginny interrupted, pulling Hermione's gaze back with a swift elbow to her side.
"Oh um…Honestly no I wasn't. Sorry…daydreaming I guess." Hermione offered as an apology. She was lucky the red-head was in such a good mood, otherwise she would have asked for a more substantial excuse.
"So, I was saying that McGonagall is planning a ball to boost morale. Kind of like an open house to show everyone in the wizarding world that Hogwarts is still the best school in the world." Hermione raised her eyebrow to express her skepticism. Minerva McGonagall hardly seemed like the party away the bad thoughts kind of person.
"No, honest! I heard it from Leora Knight!" Ginny assured her, taking a bite of her food in defiance. Leora would be a reliable source, considering she was head girl. Hermione had been offered the role, but she had turned it down. The Head Girl and Boy had much more responsibility than she had wanted for her last year, but she agreed to still serve as a prefect.
"I didn't know you and Leora were so close that she would be gossiping with you." Neville responded, grabbing a piece of the half-eaten pastry on Hermione's plate.
"Well I have to gossip with someone, you two are positively out of touch with the goings-on around the castle. For example, I bet you didn't know that Felix was caught having sex with a Hufflepuff in the Prefects bathroom." Hermione and Neville both stared at her with disbelief. It wasn't that uncommon for students to be caught out after curfew doing…less than savory things, but for a Prefect to bend the rules like that made Hermione angry.
"That can't be true! McGonagall would never allow her to stay a Prefect if that were the case." She responded maybe a little too harshly, after all, Ginny was just the messenger.
"It is! Look at his robes, no prefect badge in sight." Her gaze darted towards the Slytherin table. The dark-haired wizard had a scowl painted on his face, and true to Ginny's claim, there was no prefect badge. Turning back, she couldn't help but frown at her plate. "Well good, he doesn't deserve to be a prefect then."
An owl appeared overhead suddenly, flying low to drop a small roll of parchment next to Hermione.
Ms. Granger,
If you had some time this evening following supper, I was wondering if I might have a word in my office. There are some things I would like to discuss. This weeks password is Calico.
M. McGonagall
She stared at the note for a moment before sighing. McGonagall had been meeting with her frequently, making sure that she was okay and offering her tea. This felt different somehow though.
"Was at?" Ginny asked, her mouth full of food.
Hermione glowered at the girl, waiting for her to swallow and enunciate. "What's that?" Ginny corrected, already taking another bite. There was no doubt in her mind that Ginny and Ron were related, but six years of watching them both eat like that still didn't mean she couldn't try to make them civilized people.
"McGonagall. If what you said is true about this ball, I think that's probably what this is about." She sighed and started to gather her things. As much as she loved seeing the headmistress, she was pretty sure that whatever the meeting was about would at best annoy her.
"I'll see you guys later okay!" Hermione called, grabbing a pastry to go and heading towards the doors. She had made the trek to McGonagall's office a number of times since returning, so she arrived relatively quickly to the door. The stone gargoyle stood at the entrance, menacing in the low light of the torches.
"Calico." She stated confidently, waiting for the tell-tale sound of grinding stone to let her know to step in. McGonagall's office was the same as Dumbledore's and yet it felt so different. She had added items of her own, beautiful moving portraits of the Scottish countryside decorated the wall, and a few props from her transfiguration days sat on the desk. Hermione smiled as she eyed the teacup set they had used in their first lessons.
"Ah Ms. Granger, I do apologize for the mysteriousness of my request, but I am glad you were so prompt with your arrival. There is a very important matter that I wish to get your opinion on." The older Scottish woman was dressed, as always, in a very demure set of robes, he long graying hair pulled up in a harsh looking bun. Her spectacles dangled around her neck from an incredibly thin gold band. Using her wand, she summoned a pot of tea, and offered Hermione a cup.
"Thank you." Hermione responded, grabbing the mug. It was made just as she liked, which always made her smile. "What matter would you like to discuss? I don't suppose it has anything to do with this rumor I've been hearing about a ball?"
McGonagall frowned slightly. "While there is truth to that rumor, I should have rathered it stay secret until there were more details in place. Regardless, the matter I have to discuss with you is of another kind." She took a sip from her cup, placing it gently on her desk before continuing. "As I'm sure, being friends with Ms. Weasley, you've heard by now of Mr. Karington's…indiscretions, I find myself in need of a new Slytherin prefect." Hermione nodded in understanding. She cocked her eyebrow though, unsure of what use McGonagall could have for her.
"I am curious as to your opinions on Mr. Malfoy since his return to Hogwarts." McGonagall eyed Hermione cautiously, sipping from her tea, but retaining her eye contact with the younger girl. Hermione was suddenly very grateful she had not been sipping on her drink because she was almost certain she would have choked.
The skin on her forearm burned, and she couldn't help but wince. What can one say about the disgraced death eater Draco Malfoy? Sure, he had not actively killed anyone as far as she was aware, but he had watched her be tortured in his home and had done nothing to prevent it.
"Malfoy has…well rather he hasn't been all that disagreeable. I do not like him, in fact I would argue that I loathe him, however I have not seen the cruelness or bullying that I'd come to expect from him in previous years. Although I must say Professor, I am rather curious as to how he is here and not at Azkaban." Hermione saw her opportunity to find an answer to a question that had been haunting her since she found out Malfoy had come back to Hogwarts. Lucius had been sentenced to a lifetime, but from what Hermione had gathered there was little to no information on what happened to the younger Malfoy after the battle.
"Ms. Granger, since you are a trustworthy student, and quite within your understanding that this news is private for a reason, I must insist that if I respond to your inquiry that this will remain between the two of us." Minerva waited for confirmation, which came in the way of a small nod from Hermione. "Mr. Malfoy the younger has been allowed to attend Hogwarts as a condition of his parole."
Hermione's eyes widened, 'So he had stood trial!' She thought to herself, trying to follow along. "So, he was paroled, but how? Surely the Wizengamot is not a fan of allowing Death Eaters to roam free."
"No Ms. Granger, they are not. However, former Death Eaters have been known to be freed under the recommendation of a notable wizard." McGonagall took a long sip from her tea, seemingly determining how much she wanted to share.
"But who would possibly recommend Malfoy for parole? He may have not been the most dangerous one, but in the end, he took that Mark. He fought for Him." Hermione could feel her anger growing. No one who was responsible for this horrible war should be allowed to be free.
"Do not forget Ms. Granger, that just a moment ago you told me that Mr. Malfoy is not the same boy he once was. He was a child, and he has been raised his whole life with the belief that blood status and wealth have made him greater than. If he shows that he is willing to learn, then I am not going to turn him away. He's just a boy who has made some extraordinarily stupid decisions." The air around Hermione began to electrify, and she knew she had to try and calm down.
"How can you of all people say that? He let Death Eaters into Hogwarts! He is the reason Dumbledore is dead!" She didn't even realize she was standing until McGonagall rose as well.
"Yes Dumbledore is dead! Dumbledore is dead, and he did not blame Mr. Malfoy for that. He knew he was going to die, and he planned accordingly. Don't you dare hold his death like a trump card to win an argument against me!" McGonagall yelled, standing and slamming her hand on her desk. The older woman had never lost her composure to this degree before, even in the heat of battle, Hermione had never seen so much as a stray hair out of place. Her mouth gaped open as she shied away. McGonagall was right, that was an extremely cheap shot to make a point.
"I'm sorry Professor. I just…" She trailed off, grasping her forearm protectively. "I haven't…I can't forgive him, and I think I always just expected that he would be brought to justice."
"Have you considered that maybe justice has already been served. It was not just a recommendation that spared Mr. Malfoy. He struck a deal." McGonagall offered, sitting back down in her chair.
"A deal?" Hermione repeated, her curiosity overwhelming her anger.
"He agreed to testify against his father and many other high-ranking Death Eaters. Many we hadn't known about before are now in Azkaban thanks to him. Perhaps you would do well to consider this new piece of information." She was shocked, turning away as she processed. Malfoy had always been hungry for his father's approval. Their third year, he had been the butt of more than a few Gryffindor jokes for his 'My father will hear about this' comment. Volunteering to testify against his father; she didn't know how to feel.
"Now back to my original point. I want to give Mr. Malfoy the opportunity to redeem himself, to prove that he is not the broken shell of a boy that this war made him to be. However, I value your opinion more than almost anyone else's, and if you truly believe that Malfoy has not changed…or rather that he cannot change, then I will choose someone else to fill the role. You may take some time to consider this, but I will ask for an answer by the end of the week."
Hermione gave such a small nod that her head barely moved. She rose solemnly, her shoulders hanging low as her thoughts raced. Heading out, she heard McGonagall call her name.
"Ms. Granger, sometimes the hardest thing to do is forgive; but don't think that if you forgive you have to forget. I can't imagine the horrors you have seen and endured, but maybe there is a way to move forward with forgiveness rather than anger." She seemed to be saying this to herself almost as much as she was to Hermione. Hermione held back, not wanting to push anymore.