Chapter Three – The First Day
Disclaimer: Once again, I deny ownership of anything belonging to J.K. Rowling.
Hermione woke up feeling unusually refreshed, having had the best night's sleep since before the Final Battle. She remembered suddenly that not only was she stuck, likely forever, in 1944, but that she had met the boy who would become Lord Voldemort and had been ordered to appear in the Great Hall, the floor of which had been covered in the corpses of almost everyone she knew the last time she had seen it. This led to Hermione rolling over into her pillow and trying to go back to sleep for the first time in her years at Hogwarts.
Someone pushed on her shoulder. Hermione had her wand at Louisa's throat in less than a second.
"Umm, do you think you could move your wand?" Louisa asked nervously when she saw Hermione's merciless expression. Hermione realized what had happened and quickly moved her wand an smiled wanly before moving to go back to sleep.
"Hermione," Louisa shrieked, already forgetting the incident, "you have to get up! We only have two hours before breakfast and you still have to bathe, wash your hair, and get ready. Of course I'll help you with your hair, but it will still take a while." Minerva looked over from her bed where she was studying Arithmancy and decided a rescue was in order. The other girls in the dormitory either glanced at her quickly and grinned or were still sleeping.
"Hermione, I'll show you where the bathrooms are. Since you are a seventh year, it will be alright for you to use the Prefect's Baths, I think. If not, you can just tell them that you didn't realize there were any others," she said mischievously. Hermione gaped at her for a moment, before closing her mouth and following.
'Is this really Professor McGonagall?' she wondered. 'She is breaking a rule and it's only the first day of school! And she's a Prefect!'
"Louisa really is a nice girl, and actually quite smart once you get to know her, very good at divination for whatever that's worth. She just has trouble remembering that there is more to life than boys and hair charms," Minerva commented, mistakenly thinking that Hermione's shocked look was in response to Louisa's chatter.
"Oh," stuttered Hermione, "I don't mind. She reminds me of a girl at my old school," she sighed, remembering Lavender Brown.
They soon arrived at the baths, where Minerva left Hermione, reminding her that breakfast started at eight o' clock. Hermione undressed, got into the bath, and began to lather up her hair. She hadn't taken time to do more than a quick shower every day when she had been trapped at Hogwarts over the summer and was now reveling in the scented bubbles and water. About half an hour later, she dragged herself from the water, slipped on her old crimson robe, complete with frayed hem, and plodded contentedly back to the dormitory. Upon reaching the Fat Lady, she realized in shock that she couldn't remember the password. Clad in only her robe, she was beginning to get chilled. After ten minutes, she heard the sound of footsteps over her chattering teeth. The person creating them did nothing to increase her good humour.
"Well, what do we have here?" Tom Riddle asked with a smirk. "A student locked out of their common room and it's not even breakfast yet. You are lucky that you have such a responsible Head Boy willing to make rounds at quarter to seven in the morning just in case some idiot forgets her password," he added snidely, as he glanced at her less-than-impressive attire. Face matching the color of the cotton, Hermione cinched her robe tighter around her waist and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Could you just let me in?" she replied, feeling a little self-conscious as he continued inspecting her.
"What, not even a 'Please, Tom'? How impolite. Maybe I should just leave you here. I know for a fact that none of the Gryffindors ever manage to leave for breakfast until 7:45. That gives you about an hour to stand here freezing," he added with a malicious grin.
"I do have my wand, so I highly doubt that I would freeze," Hermione responded in a monotone voice, attempting to ignore the source of her vexation.
"But you might be late, not a good impression to make on your first day of class."
"Then I will deal with it, leave me," Hermione ordered. She was starting to lose control of her temper.
"Why would I do that? I am supposed to look out for all of Hogwarts' students. I'm just trying to help."
"I don't believe you."
"Why not?" Tom asked innocently, a dangerous light appearing deep in his eyes.
"You may have fooled everyone else at this school, but you will not fool me, Tom," she said coldly, "I do not trust you and I will never trust you."
"Hermione, you simply cannot say something like that and expect me not to encourage you to explain yourself," he responded lightly as he stepped within a foot of her.
"I have nothing more to say to you. I am completely willing to wait here for someone to open the door."
Tom reached down and tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his eyes. It took her a few seconds before she recovered from the shock and wrenched her face away.
"Do not touch me again," she warned quietly.
When Tom had seen Hermione standing outside of the Gryffindor Common Room, he had planned on merely commenting about her apparent lack of intelligence before letting her in. By this point, though, he had to admit that events had been much more interesting than he could have imagined. Her thin robe left little to the imagination and her hair was still partially wet, making it much less bushy than it had been the day before. Overall, she looked quite good, he had thought critically, though she was inordinately pale and a bit too thin. But when she became angry, she looked better, and more importantly, became very amusing. However, his amusement had died as her responses became harsher. Though he knew that she was right in her opinion of him, there was no way for her to have come to her conclusions so quickly, barely having spoken with him before.
Tom was shocked by what he had found in the mere seconds during which he had entered her mind via Legilimency.
He had heard the hiss of Parseltongue and seen a page from a book referring to the supposed myth of the Heir of Slytherin.
"Hermione?" someone called through the door. The portrait swung open. "There you are, did you forget the password?" Louisa asked. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "Get in here, you're going to be late."
Hermione climbed into the Gryffindor common room without a backward glance. Louisa immediately started firing charms at her.
"We are going to have to hurry. You have to make a good first impression or you'll never get a date by the Halloween ball," she exclaimed. "Don't worry; I'm the best in the school at hair and makeup charms. Now, let's just dry and straighten your hair, maybe add a little curl. Hmmm, what kind of makeup?" she murmured tapping her finger to her chin.
"No makeup. There is no one I care to impress," Hermione stated. "I do not want to be noticed or asked to the Halloween Ball."
Louisa looked shocked.
"I'm sorry, Louisa," Hermione sighed. "I just don't want to deal with this now. I've just arrived and need some time to get used to being here," she apologized.
"It's all right," Louisa said reluctantly. "But if you ever need help, just ask," she added brightly.
Hermione had just enough time to slip on the new robes that the house elves had left for her and catch up with Minerva who was just walking out of the Common Room door.
"So you escaped, I see," Minerva said with a slight grin. "The girls and I made bets on if you would go through the whole process. I'll need to claim my winnings at breakfast."
"You continue to surprise me," said Hermione in wonder.
"You probably thought I was just a goody two shoes, eh?"
"Well, let's just say that you exceeded my expectations," replied Hermione.
"Of course, I always exceed expectations," Minerva joked. Hermione found herself laughing for the first time in months as they walked toward the Great Hall for breakfast.
Hermione's mouth went dry and her breathing rate increased to borderline hyperventilation. She did not want to go in.
"Are you all right, Hermione?" Minerva asked.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine, I just get nervous around a lot of people sometimes," she lied. She consciously slowed her breathing and closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself for what was coming.
Like the feast the night before, everyone stared at her as she walked in. Soon audible whispering began.
Hermione went pale at seeing the scene of her nightmares again. She looked about frantically, illogically hoping that she might see a familiar face at one of the tables, but instead, her gaze clashed with pale, almost colorless eyes set in the emotionless face of Tom Riddle. Hermione focused on him, and Lord Voldemort's visage seemed to become superimposed over the Head Boy's handsome face. Her hand flicked toward her wand before she tensed her arm, controlling it at the last second. But she couldn't restrain the abject hatred she felt for him from manifesting in her eyes. Suddenly she felt something, as though someone was prodding her memories. She instantly broke eye contact when she realized that Tom was likely trying to use Legilimency.
"Come on, Hermione, you should meet the other Gryffindors, since you missed the feast yesterday."
Hermione looked back at her future Transfiguration professor, calming herself. She became aware of the rustling of whispers around them.
"What are they doing?" whispered Hermione to Minerva. "Is my hair purple, do I have something on my face?" she asked nervously.
"You caused quite a bit of excitement when you fainted last night," replied Minerva matter-of-factly. "Now just sit down here and I'll introduce you to my friends." Hermione immediately sat down, hoping that the catcalls and whispers would soon stop and trying to avoid remembering the last time she had been in the Great Hall.
"This is Henry Potter, Mary Prewett, and our resident Quidditch star, Jason Wood. We are all prefects, but don't worry; we only take points from Slytherins," Minerva said.
"Well, there was that one Ravenclaw last week I think, but other than that…" joked Henry, as he was interrupted by Jason.
"You haven't introduced the new girl yet," he said.
"Oh, sorry everyone, this is Hermione Granger," Minerva said.
"So Hermione Granger, where are you from?" asked Jason.
"Well," said Hermione, thinking quickly, "I'm from London."
"Are your parents magical or Muggles?"
"They were Muggles," Hermione replied.
"Were? What happened to them?" asked Mary compassionately, speaking for the first time since being introduced.
"They were killed in France during the war, they were both doctors," Hermione said, proud of herself for coming up with something so believable in such a short time but melancholy at the memory of her parents. They had actually died shortly before the end of the last school year, the victims of an automobile collision on the way home from the office.
"We're very sorry," said Henry, his face practically shining with earnestness.
Hermione avoided meeting his gaze as she forced herself not to break down upon seeing the glaring familial resemblance between Harry and Henry. "It's all right, it happened several months ago, so I've had time to cope with their deaths," Hermione stated, effectively ending the questions about her past and staring down at her plate.
"So Hermione, do you know what classes you're in yet?" asked Jason, after a moment of awkward silence.
"Yes, NEWT-level Potions, Arithmancy, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Herbology and History of Magic." she replied. "What classes are you taking?" "Hopefully that will keep them occupied until the end of breakfast, though it is nice to have someone to talk to other than myself," she admitted silently as they launched into a discussion about their classes and professors. Hermione ate her breakfast ravenously. When her plate was empty, she looked up to see the other students staring at her with their mouths hanging open.
"Blimey," breathed Jason, "I've never seen a girl eat like that."
"Well, I've had to eat my own cooking for the past three months, so this is possibly the best food I can remember," she replied, blushing at their stares.
"You could always take Muggle Studies, even though you're Muggleborn," suggested Minerva. "I've heard that the cooking unit is taught by a real chef."
"I think I'll pass," said Hermione. "I can learn to cook after I graduate, I can't learn Euclid's Applications of Pi as they relate to the Third Fundamental Theorem of Arithmancy."
"Help, my brain, it's exploding," Jason cried in a stentorian voice.
"Finally, someone to copy off of in Arithmancy," commented Henry. "Minerva here is a whiz at Transfiguration, but numbers make her angry, and that is a scarier sight than Grindelwald with rollers in his hair."
"I wouldn't try that if I were you," Hermione warned, irritably recalling Ron's tendencies to "borrow" her homework.
"Never mind, I'm actually not that bad at Arithmancy. Charms are another story," said Henry, backing down from a losing battle.
Just then, the bell rang for the first class to begin.
"We're all off to NEWT-level Potions now," said Minerva, as they picked up their bags. "Oh, it looks like Professor Dumbledore wants to speak with you. Maybe we'll see you in the laboratory in a few minutes."
"Bye," called Hermione to their retreating backs.
Hermione stood up and gathered her things. Sighing, she walked up to her Head of House.
"Miss Granger, I have taken the liberty of assigning Mr. Riddle to show you to your classes today to help you become acquainted with the castle," Dumbledore said.
"I'm sure I can find them on my own," Hermione protested, not looking at the person who had come to stand slightly behind her.
"The castle is very capricious. Even older students occasionally get lost, and it would be impossible for a new student to successfully find all of his or her classes," Dumbledore replied, a hint of warning in his eyes.
Hermione understood the reason behind his order, but she was definitely not pleased.
"Fine. Thank you, professor." Hermione turned around and rushed toward the exit of the Great Hall.
"Hermione," Tom called out in a saccharine voice, "you are going out the wrong doors." She whirled around to face him. "It is shorter to go out the doors on the right if you are going to the potions laboratory," he explained. Hermione walked past him silently. Just before she reached the door, she almost stumbled on an uneven stone. She looked down at the floor, at the stone upon which she had found Harry's ruined wand, covered in his blood. She bit back a whimper when the vision of the feather covered in blood flashed before her eyes.
"We don't have time to stand here looking at the floor," Tom interrupted. "Come on."
Tom was intrigued. This girl had appeared looking like a prisoner of war and seemed to have the mental and emotional scars to go with such an experience. Furthermore, she had knowledge in her mind that was too pertinent to him to allow it to go unexplained. Almost no one knew of Slytherin's particular gift and even fewer of his prophecy of an heir. For those thoughts to be on the surface of her mind just as he peered into it was an impossible coincidence.
Hermione came back to herself and started moving again, pushing through the doors and heading toward the potions room, before she recalled Tom's reason for being there.
"Is this the right way?" she asked quietly, avoiding his eyes.
"Yes." Tom walked ahead of her toward their class.
They arrived in Potions just as Slughorn was finishing his instructions about the potion they were making, Draught of Living Death.
'At least I've done this one before,' she thought, remembering Potions with Slughorn the previous year and how Harry had practically cheated to win the vial of Felix Felicis by using the Half-Blood Prince's textbook. Deciding she had nothing to lose, she incorporated the same techniques that Harry had used so successfully and even added one of her own. She crushed the sopophorous beans, added the clockwise stir and carefully stirred in three doxy eggs, recalling that Fred and George had used them to cause instant fainting for their Skiving Snackboxes, oblivious to the calculating looks she was receiving from the others in the classroom, particularly from Tom and Professor Slughorn. By the end of the double potions class, her potion looked perfect, completely transparent but with dark purple and black sparks rising from it, presumable from the doxy eggs.
"All right everyone, you should be finished now," Slughorn called across the room. With that, he vanished all of the potions except Hermione's and waved goodbye to the class. "Miss Granger, could you please remain after for a minute. I would like to speak with you."
Knowing what was coming, Hermione awkwardly stood in front of her potion.
"I must tell you, Miss Granger, that this is the best Draught of Living Death that I have seen in all my years of teaching. And your modifications were extremely impressive. Why did you decide to add doxy eggs?"
"I saw them used once to cause an instant faint. I reasoned that they would make the draught effective almost immediately after ingestion, rather than within three to five minutes."
"Very well done. I dare say your skill rivals Tom's, maybe even surpasses it. By the way, I'm having a little get-together this evening and I would love for you to come. Tom, were you planning to come tonight?" he called across the room to the Head Boy who was still packing up his things.
"Of course, Professor," said Tom, with an ingratiating smile on his face.
"No wonder the teachers like him so well," Hermione thought snidely.
Tom turned abruptly to look at her, as if he was trying to see inside her head.
Hermione utilized the slight skill at Occlumency that she had gained from her reading and Harry's descriptions of his training with Snape, hoping it would be enough, but turned her head away just in case.
Slughorn coughed lightly, breaking up their staring contest. "Tom, my boy, why don't you escort Miss Granger to the party tonight? I'm sure she could use help getting around the castle, right Miss Granger?"
"Well, I think I could find it all right by my-"
"Nonsense, no reason to get lost, needing a little help with directions now and then isn't something to be embarrassed about, why I know for a fact that our current Minister of Magic used to get lost on the Misuse of Magic level every day on his way to his office. Off you go now, don't want you two to miss lunch," he said. "See you tonight at seven-thirty." With that, he was gone.
'Wonderful, more quality time with snake-boy,' she thought with a grimace, before she turned to leave the room. Suddenly, she felt Tom grasp her arm.
"What?" she asked, confronting him.
"I was just wondering why you seem to be in such a rush to escape my presence," he said politely. "Any other girl would be thrilled to have my undivided attention."
"Well obviously I am not. And I don't know what you're talking about. I just want to go to lunch," she replied tensely.
"You know very well what I'm talking about," he asserted, frustrated by her continued obstinacy.
"I am positively famished and though your company is extremely exhilarating, I would rather spend my lunch break with friends. Honestly, I didn't think that the Head Boy would get so worked up over someone besting him in a single potions class," she said sarcastically before she wrenched her arm out of his grip and rushing out of the laboratory.
Tom was fuming. "How dare she insult me! And her potion was not better than mine. It just surprised Slughorn that there was a Gryffindor with a brain larger than a doxy's," he thought angrily. "She'll learn her lesson when we get to Defense Against the Dark Arts," he reasoned as he calmed his features into their usual good-natured yet bored expression.
Hermione had successfully drawn his focus away from anything other than his irritation at being bested in potions. But a moment after she disappeared from sight, his mind returned to the strange event that morning and combined it with the difficulty he had just had using Legilimency on her again. Tom quickly concluded that she knew what he had done and was taking steps to prevent a reoccurrence. Furthermore, she had rather masterfully shifted his focus from it, goading him into anger by insulting his intelligence. Something he would have done, he admitted unwillingly.
Then Tom noticed that she had left without even getting directions to the Great Hall. He smirked, thinking how unlikely it was that she would be able to find the hall without help, something she was unlikely to get since all the students were probably already eating.
