Chapter 6

We got to the room and sat down right as Slughorn turned around and started class. This wasn't my plan, to come in almost late, but that was Malfoy's fault anyway. If he hadn't taken so long, we would've been here a while ago. We also would not have run into Harry and Ron, and we probably would've been in here alone…

"Miss Granger?"

I snapped to attention. The class was looking at me expectantly, including Professor Slughorn, who was at the front of the room with a quizzical expression.

"I'm sorry professor, I didn't hear you," I said quickly. How had I let my mind wander off like that?

"Yes… Well, I was just taking roll," he said. "Just making sure you were here and not an imposter with a very well crafted Polyjuice Potion."

The class sniggered and I nodded meekly and slunk back into my seat, wishing I was at the back of the class.

"Nice one, Hermione," Ron whispered. "And on the first day too."

"Shut up," I hissed. I pulled out my books and parchment to take my mind off the embarrassment. No sooner than I had brought out my supplies that something poked me on my arm. It was a paper airplane, charmed so that it was floating in midair. I grabbed it and opened it.

So sleepy you forgot your own name, Granger?

Someone didn't have enough coffee.

From your favourite Head Boy

I sighed heavily and turned around. Sure enough, Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint were all sitting in a row behind me. Blaise caught my eye and elbowed Malfoy. He turned to look at me and sneered.

I turned back around, took out my quill, and added the word "least" before "favourite Head Boy" and sent it back to him, then tried to turn my attention back to Slughorn and the lecture. I heard a chuckle and the scratch of a quill against parchment before it came back, this time hitting me in the ear.

I opened it with a frustrated groan and read it. This time the message was on the other side.

You're a horrible liar. Did you think I'd forget about the fact that you were dying to get under my clothes last night?

I venomously took out my quill and almost ripped through the paper as I scribbled an image of him as a ferret bouncing around the walls; one of my most cherished memories from my fourth year at Hogwarts. I animated it so that little ferret-Malfoy would bounce around the paper, then sent it back and turned around towards the blackboard at the front of the class, barely able to pay attention to what the professor was saying. I realized after listening for a few seconds that I already knew all of what he was talking about, so I stole a glance back at Malfoy and his cronies. Blaise was holding back laughter as he looked at the paper, while the other three were trying to see what was so amusing on the piece of parchment. Malfoy had turned a pinkish color, the usual smirk replaced by an embarrassed frown. Blaise nudged him again and nodded his head towards me, still snickering. They both looked up towards me. Malfoy mouthed the words "Very funny, mudblood." I just smiled and turned back around.

"They bothering you, Hermione?" Ron asked, stealing a quick glance back at them, a suspicious look in his eyes.

"No, not at all," I said. I smiled to myself and turned my attention back to the front of the classroom. There was a little war brewing between Malfoy and I, and at the moment, I was ahead.

Potions flew by; I knew everything Slughorn was lecturing on about. It looked like for the first few days, potions class would be relatively simple.

The rest of my schedule wasn't going to be as easy. I had Malfoy in almost all of my classes except for the Art by Magic class and Advanced Muggle Studies—there was no escaping from him, it seemed. No surprise he wasn't taking the latter class, given his Pureblood upbringing and anti-Muggle sentiments.

My next class was Transfiguration, which proved to be more challenging than potions and I actually had to pay attention. The lesson was to transform something inanimate into something animate: in this case, a teakettle into a raccoon. Everything was going well—McGonagall even gave me a compliment and five points to Gryffindor—until a paper airplane hit me in the back of the head. I stopped and grabbed it, looking around for Malfoy, and spotted him near the back of the room with his annoying Slytherin friends. I unfolded the airplane.

Seems like you're pretty good at transfiguring, Granger. Maybe you could turn Weasley into a little rat for my sake?

Your VERY favorite Head Boy

P.S. Don't even try to deny that last little bit there.

I sat down at my seat at the table and took out my quill, writing a response.

Dear my VERY irritating, least favorite Head Boy:

Maybe I could turn you into a squeaky little ferret for everyone's sake. Sound good? Turning something inanimate into something animate is today's lesson, after all.

I sent it back. It seemed like this "ferret" thing was going to be a fun joke for the rest of the year. Ron came over and sat down next to me.

"What was that airplane all about? What did he say?"

I was surprised. Usually, Ron missed things like that, but it seemed like he was suddenly more alert than ever before. I pushed my hair behind my ear.

"Oh, it was just something derogatory about you," I admitted. I could tell he was getting angrier by the second and I put my hand on his shoulder. "But don't worry. I kindly reminded him about the little ferret incident third year."

Ron smiled and looked over at Malfoy at the back of the room. I followed his gaze and saw Malfoy crumpling up the paper and throwing it away as Blaise was laughing. It seemed like Malfoy really hated the ferret joke. Ron laughed at patted me on the back.

"Nice one, Hermione," he said happily. "Keep it up and maybe you can get Malfoy to quit Head Boy."

I chuckled lightly and nodded, playing along. Ron started packing up, and I realized that class was over. I began packing up also, but I was a little concerned. Maybe I shouldn't push the ferret thing too much… Because for some reason, I was a tiny bit perturbed—I didn't really want Malfoy to quit Head Boy.

The rest of the day was fine, just like it had been for five years at Hogwarts: classes, break, classes, lunch, and then the final classes at the end of the day. All of my courses with Malfoy were still plagued by irritating paper airplanes, mostly centered around insulting Ron whether he was in that class or not. I found this strange: yes, Ron and Malfoy were never really on friendly terms, but I had a hunch there was something else brewing between them that hadn't been there before. What had I missed? Did Ron, Fred, and George go dungbomb the Malfoy Manor or something?

Apart from the trouble with Malfoy and Co., I found my sixth-year courses intriguing, especially my Muggle Studies class and my Art by Magic course. I had always liked Muggle Studies, but the Art by Magic class was something else. I never knew I actually had any ounce of creativity in me, but it appeared that I had just a small bit. We were learning to manipulate our wands by the use of spells to draw, making ink come out of the tip to create an unparalleled smoothness and clarity. I was terrible at drawing, but the class was still fun, and who knew, maybe I could improve.

I got back to my dorm a little tired and flopped down on the couch, throwing my bag down on the floor. Muggle Studies was my last class, so I had no idea where Malfoy was. I had the feeling that we were supposed to patrol or something and that he should probably be here. I waited for about five minutes, then assumed that he wasn't coming anytime soon. I sighed. Typical Malfoy.

I glanced over at the big wooden doors and realized that I hadn't checked to see what was behind them yet. Maybe it was something I wasn't supposed to see? I contemplated something secret was behind that door that Dumbledore had decided to keep there. Then again, it wasn't like it was well-hidden; in fact, it was in plain sight. If it was in the middle of our dorm, then why would I be forbidden to look inside?

My curiosity got the better of me, and I walked over to the door and knocked on it. I realized that there probably wasn't going to be an answer from the other side—at least there shouldn't be one. I enclosed by fingers around the brass door handle.

"Granger."

I jumped and turned around. Malfoy had just come into the room and was standing at the entrance.

"Malfoy!" I gasped, my hand going to my chest. "Don't do that."

He snickered as he went over to the couch and threw his bag on the ground. "A little jumpy, Granger? You should be," he added.

"Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?" I said, crossing my arms.

"Excuse you," he said nonchalantly. "C'mon, we have to go on patrol. Or are you shirking your duties already?"

"Oh please, don't even talk to me about being lazy," I rolled my eyes for effect and started for the door. "You coming, or what?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said and stood up, following me out the door. The moment we got out into the hall, he turned the other way and started heading in the opposite direction.

"Malfoy? Where are you going?"

He turned around as if noticing me for the very first time.

"Oh, Granger," he said, a false tone of kindness in his voice. "I'm going this way to patrol the Slytherin common rooms. I'm sure you don't mind."

"Actually, I do," I said harshly. "You're just going there to talk with your friends, not 'patrol' or anything. Do you even take this seriously?"

He smirked. "Of course I do," he said in that same false tone. "Those Slytherins can be trouble, better keep watch on them."

"Well, that's true. The whole lot of them are a bunch of idiots with wands," I countered, returning his smirk.

"Better than you and your Gryffindor friends. A bunch of idiots with wands who think they're doing some kind of world-changing good for everyone," he answered in a steely tone. "Especially that stupid, self-righteous Weasley. The hell does he think he is? Running around thinking he's the most courageous hero in the universe, tagging along with Potter and—"

"Shut the hell up, Malfoy. Just shut up. Don't talk about my friends like that, you prick. It's the first day of school, damnit, and I'm sick of you already." I stormed off in the other direction, fuming. He can do whatever he wants to, I don't even care. Stupid Malfoy. Stupid, rich, conceited, Slytherin Malfoy.

I patrolled by myself for about an hour, without event. Everything was as normal; why shouldn't it be? I ended my patrol by going to the Gryffindor common room, trying to find Harry and Ron, who weren't there. I was halfway down the hall, going back to my dorm, when I heard someone call my name.

"Hey, Hermione!"

Ron and Harry caught up to me and we started talking. As we walked down the hall and then down the stairs, I told them of how irritating Malfoy was and how I couldn't believe I had to live with him for the entire year. It felt good to let out my frustrations to them until we saw Malfoy and his friends in the hall. Ron glared at him, and boy, if looks could kill. Malfoy stared coldly back, returning the glare, and stole a glance at me. His expression was unreadable, and it annoyed me that I couldn't figure it out. It was just a fleeting moment, but it felt like much longer. Ron put his hand on my shoulder.

"If you ever need me to beat the shit out of him, then just—"

"Ron, you're getting too angry too fast," Harry said calmly. "He hasn't even done anything yet."

As they walked me back to my dorm, we talked about happier things and the encounter was seemingly forgotten. Ron, however, still seemed to be holding onto it a little, for reasons unknown. We said goodbye, I did my homework, then went to dinner. It was an uneventful day, like it should be. I did some homework in advance before I went to bed and didn't see Malfoy for the rest of the evening; not like I wanted to anyways. But as I climbed into bed, I heard the sound of a big door closing, a door that wasn't the portrait and one that also wasn't his room door.