Hermione Granger woke with a start.
Drenched in nervous sweat and with a thudding heartbeat, she removed her bed covers from herself and breathed deeply.
It was early. Glancing outside, she saw waxing morning light and realized she had woken up an hour and a half too early.
She had no idea what had caused her sleep to be interrupted; all she was aware of was the intense worry she suddenly felt.
Then it hit her. She knew what was wrong.
Quickly and quietly so she wouldn't wake her roommates, Hermione ran to her trunk. She shifted through her school books and massive piles of parchment and homework until she finally found it.
She snatched the parchment and examined it closely. Her hunch was right.
Nervously, she put the parchment under her stack of schoolwork and returned to her bed.
She curled up and shut her eyes, attempting to go back to sleep.
But it was difficult.
Hermione wondered why something like this was happening on just the fourth day of the year. She felt her heartbeat increase.
Hey. She told herself. Not a big deal. It's not like anything's happened yet. I'll just go to Dumbledore about it in the morning. Yeah. He'll know what to do.
Hermione felt a little relieved with her last thought and sighed deeply.
But she still didn't get anything more than restless tossing and turning until it was time to wake up.
"Bye Draco!"
Pansy Parkinson's sickeningly shrill voice echoed across the hall as Draco bade goodbye to her on his way to Defense Against the Dark Arts.
He rubbed his ear after he saw her turn the corner and grimaced. Everything about her had always been so...unnecessary.
He had no idea how or why, but in this world Pansy was his actual girlfriend.
He was very surprised that morning when after breakfast she called out his name and came running down the hall to surprise him with a heavy, wet kiss on the mouth.
In actual time, Pansy had never been anything real to him. They had a sort of mutual understanding; use each other for whatever desires they might have, but never actually have anything serious. Perhaps Pansy had wanted more, but Draco was under the impression that she understood that he was only thought of her as a friend. Or well, a really good friend.
But there she was, chipper and bright as she held his hand and called him "Snugglebuns" that morning, clearly having a different idea of relationship in mind.
As far as changes went so far in his personal life here, Draco wasn't too pleased. He only hoped class would be better.
When he arrived at the DADA class, he sat in his usual seat, all the way in the back. He hoped at least that had not changed.
Draco was let down, however, when a moment later an annoyed voice addressed him from behind.
"Hey, you're in my seat."
Draco turned around and turned to face whatever imbecile had decided to get smart with him and was surprised to find Neville Longbottom at the other end of that statement.
"Not anymore, Longbottom," Draco smirked. "Better find another place."
Neville's face contoured up angrily and he opened his mouth to retort.
But before he could say anything, a girl strolled in, saw the situation, and interrupted.
"Stop, Neville," She said. "Not worth it. Let's just sit up there." She pointed to a set of desks in front of Draco.
Neville glared at Draco and then shrugged, and as the two walked over to their seats, Draco tried to figure out who the girl was.
She did not look familiar to him, yet he felt as if he had seen her somewhere.
He studied her closely and watched as she engaged in a conversation with Neville and tucked a strand of honey-brown curls behind her ear. She blinked a pair of hazel eyes and half-smiled at her friend. Draco thought she looked a little bit like that mudblood that-
He suddenly knew. She was Hermione Granger.
Draco looked again and recognized the slightly bushy hair and a more grown-up face of a girl he knew as a child.
Draco had seen Hermione at this age of course, but being distracted the past few years about the whole Voldemort business, he had let himself ignore his surroundings a bit.
He hadn't really taken a good look at Granger, or even Weasley for that matter, since he was much younger.
Seeing her now, he saw she was a lot different.
For one thing, he didn't recognize the air of confidence she projected and the composition she seemed to have lacked as a twelve year-old.
Draco suddenly became aware of both Hermione and Neville staring at him. The two whispered and snickered to each other as they eyed him.
Draco was about to open his mouth when suddenly a stern voice interrupted.
"Miss Granger. Mr. Longbottom. Is there something interesting about Mr. Malfoy that you would like to share with us today?"
The entire classroom fell silent as the looming presence of Severus Snape made its way down to the last few rows of desks.
Neville and Hermione looked up at the professor with sudden looks of sheer horror.
Neville gulped and stuttered, "S-sorry, s-sir. We d-didn't mean to-"
"Five points from Gryffindor," Snape promptly cut him off as he turned away to walk back to the front of the class. "I assume the two of you should know by your seventh year to not fool around when my class starts."
Neville and Hermione exchanged nervous glances and turned away from each other as Snape spun around and faced the room.
"Page ninety." He instructed.
There was a pause as the class hurriedly retrieved their books from their bags and opened up to the page.
Once everyone had settled, Snape continued.
"Chapter four: Time."
Draco looked up attentively.
"Dark arts can come in many forms. Most are the obvious Forbidden Curses and Potions alike, but time is an underestimated and widely-used variable. Complicated as it is, we must attempt to understand the exact way it can be manipulated and-"
The abrupt scrape of the opening classroom door cut off Snape mid-lecture.
Every head turned to look see what audacious student dared to be late to Professor Snape's class.
Harry Potter smirked and sauntered forward as he saw his classmates' surprised looks.
"I apologize, Professor," he said quite sarcastically to Snape. "I was a little...withheld."
The Boy Who Lived smirked outwardly and confidently.
Snape strolled down the rows of seats to confront him.
"Fifteen points, Potter. And a week's detention. Take your seat."
Harry widened his eyes in mock-surprise. "Taking points away from your own house, sir?" he said, still with sarcasm.
"Make it twenty-five. And take a seat, Potter. Your point value affects you and your fellow students, not myself. Now sit."
He pointed to the empty seat next to Draco.
"Excuse me," Draco said suddenly. "Sir, am I to be punished now, because this git can't learn to show up on time?"
"We must all make sacrifices, Draco," Snape replied. "I assure you, fate will reward you for kindly suffering through these delinquent's actions."
Snape strolled back to the front of the room and continued his lecture.
Draco sighed as Harry assumed his neighboring seat.
He glanced up and almost couldn't familiarize any part of the boy's face. It was difficult to view this pompous prick as Harry Potter when he wasn't even wearing his famous, stupid-looking circular glasses.
"Need something, Malfoy?" Harry asked him.
"Yeah," Draco retorted. "Kindly go suck it."
He ignored, with difficulty, the disturbing presence of the Boy Who Lived for the rest of the hour.
"I really despise him."
Neville pouted as he grabbed his things and exited the DADA class with Hermione. He was getting more and more annoyed at the amount of imbeciles in that class.
Hermione tittered. "Why do you give him the time of day, Neville?" She asked playfully.
"I don't!" He insisted. "He just doesn't know when to stop."
"So ignore him! Honestly, you're only egging him on. He enjoys the conflict. If you turn away, he'll leave it alone."
Neville shrugged and pulled the books in his arm closer to his chest. He wished Hermione would try to see it his way sometimes.
As the two walked along to their next Charms class together, Neville watched Hermione like he usually did when she wasn't looking. The golden sunlight that gleamed through the windows in the castle played softly on her fair skin. Neville watched her bite her bottom lip and smiled internally at the habit. She looked like a vulnerable angel in that moment, though Neville knew she couldn't be anything further from that.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when the two abruptly heard loud booming footsteps and were pushed roughly to the side by someone running quickly and clumsily through the hallways.
"Sorry!"
Ron Weasley turned around swiftly to apologize to the ten or so people he had bowled over accidentally, broomstick in hand and running madly through the halls.
Hermione stood up from where she and Neville had been knocked to the floor and offered a hand for Neville to do the same. The two grimaced and brushed themselves off.
"How many times are we going to be bothered by some stupid git?" Hermione said playfully, as she reorganized her books.
"Guess he's just preparing for the big game this weekend." Neville said.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Jocks are the worst." She declared.
Neville smiled and shrugged.
"Whatever," He said, as he linked his arm in Hermione's. "Aren't you just glad you're best friend isn't anything like that?"
Hermione laughed and nodded.
"Couldn't imagine anything else." She said as the two made their way to their next class.
"Suit up, Malfoy! What are you doing?"
Blaise Zabini's sharp outcry snapped Draco out of the trance he was in.
He looked up from the homework he was attempting to do in the Common Room and saw Blaise with two broomsticks in his hand.
"S-sorry," He stammered. "I, uh, thought practice was later."
"Nope. Moved it up to right after school. The more time we can get on the field, the better. Hurry and get dressed."
He tossed Draco one of the broomsticks.
Draco nodded and hurried to his room to retrieve his Quidditch robes.
Now seeing what the team was like here, that was going to be interesting.
He quickly suited up and after, he and Blaise made their way from the dungeons to the Quidditch pitch.
As they walked, Draco thought it was odd to see Zabini as captain but didn't question it too much. It wasn't that big of a difference, after all.
When they arrived at the field, the rest of the team stood socializing and Draco saw Crabbe and Goyle beating a Bludger around lazily.
"Let's go!" Blaise commanded, quickly quieting the team's chatter. "We play Gryffindor in two days. It's the first game of the year, and we're going to win. So let's get to it. First drill. Crabbe, Goyle, get set. Bulstrode, get to the goal. Malfoy and Rogers, grab the Quaffle. And Potter, get the snitch."
While the rest of the team followed orders, Malfoy stared in shock.
Potter?
He remembered with a start the stupid boy's skills in the sport. Of course he was on the team.
But one thing was off.
"Zabini?" He asked.
Blaise looked over at Draco. "Yes?"
"Sorry, it's just I'm not used to playing Chaser."
Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Uh, how's that, Malfoy? You've been playing there the past six years."
"Oh," Draco said quickly. "Well of course then, sorry."
He quickly flew up above the pitch to join Allen Rogers.
Harry flew up almost immediately after, smirking at Draco.
"Having some inferiority complexes there, Malfoy?" Harry said patronizingly.
"Shove it." Draco responded bitterly. "Let's just play."
Blaise joined his fellow Chasers shortly after and commanded them to begin the first drill. All four balls were promptly released and everyone began their respective exercise.
Millicent braced herself as the three Chasers flew forward roughly. In the blink of an eye, Blaise sent the Quaffle through the center hoop, Millicent missing it by just a hair.
He smirked and retrieved the ball, instructing Draco and Allen to prepare for the same drill. This time he handed the Quaffle to Draco.
As they flew back to their position to begin again, Draco glanced over at his other teammates.
Crabbe and Goyle were beating around the two bludgers in their own Beater drill, enjoying the prospect of inflicting pain on one another, as always. Draco could barely see glimpses of Harry, who was doing a drill all on his own, trying to catch the fleeting snitch.
Draco turned back to his own position.
"Alright, all you, Malfoy." Blaise declared.
Draco grasped the Quaffle, braced himself, and soared. Crabbe, noticing Draco's sudden speed, playfully hit a Bludger towards him.
Draco dodged the flying ball and did a flip, Quaffle still in hand. As he saw the Bludger continue to follow him, he swerved upward and tossed the Quaffle to Blaise.
Blaise caught it, and as the Bludger came suddenly after him, he tossed the Quaffle into the direction of the far right hoop, though he was a little far from it.
Without a second thought, Draco zoomed forward and smacked the Quaffle as hard as he could, and it flew smoothly through the hoop a second later.
Blaise grinned and retrieved the ball. "Nice, Malfoy!" He said. "You still got it."
Draco smirked. Real time or not, he could count on himself being a decent team player.
But his inner gloating was suddenly cut off by Harry's abrupt cry.
"I GOT IT!" Harry roared, flying in suddenly, golden snitch in hand.
Everyone stopped in the middle of their drills and looked at Harry, visibly impressed.
"Fantastic, Potter!" Blaise grinned even harder. He called the team together.
When everyone arrived into a huddle in the center of the pitch he spoke again.
"Alright, nice playing, all of you. Potter, do what you just did on Saturday and we'll have it in the bag for sure. Malfoy, nice technique. Bulstrode, work on your blocking. But it looks like we're in good shape. Couple more drills and we're done for today. Let's go!"
The team broke apart and prepared for more exercises.
After two more hours of sweat, rage, and competitive fire, Blaise called the practice to an end. He commended his team and assured them that they were ready for the game, making sure they all knew what they needed to work on, and then they flew to the ground.
As Draco walked away, pleased at his present skills, Harry abruptly came and bumped his shoulder.
"Nice work there, Malfoy," He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Thanks, actually," Draco responded, confident as ever. "Try not to show up late Saturday, Potter."
Harry shot Draco a dirty look and bumped him again.
"Oops," He said, sarcastically once again.
Draco decided to ignore him and walk away faster toward the dormitories.
Not even Potter could ruin this for him.
When he was back in his own room, he smirked and sat down tiredly on his bed.
It was a nice feeling to worry about something else rather than his stupid time situation. At least Draco could live freely for the moment.
At least until after the big game Saturday.
Draco smiled and leaned back on his bed, content for once within the last twenty-four hours.