Author's Note:

So I'm pretty happy that more people are reviewing and reading my story Any ideas on how to develop the story would be very much welcome indeed! It took me extremely long to finally manage to finish this chapter and post it because I was trying to fir my characters' characters properly and it was really difficult for me to write about Snape since he is always so sarcastic and biased. I know I take longer to update than any other author because of my busy school schedule so sorry about that but thanks to everyone who are willing to wait for the next update love all my readers. Thank you so much! This new chapter goes out to all my readers out there. Hope you will enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters mentioned in this story. They all belong to an amazing woman named J.K Rowling. Only the plot of this story belongs to me. All hail the creative J.K Rowling, who created Harry Potter and all the characters out of scratch. My life would have never been the same without this. Harry Potter is my childhood.

Clarification for this chapter: Snape is not dead. He didn't get murdered by Nagini.

Tales of the Half-Blood Prince

Draco's POV:

Draco felt really really really horrible inside, and some part of him was shriveling up bit by bit when he remembered what he had done. He had made a girl cry, and not just any girl, but Hermione Jean Granger, muggle-born extraordinaire. Years ago, Draco would have silently congratulated herself. This was no simple feat. But now, Draco felt wretched inside. He knew he shouldn't have done such a thing, but what else could he do? He couldn't have his friends doubt him, so he had done the only thing he knew he could do well. Lie. He had lied about not caring about Hermione and was only helping and talking to her because if not he would get hell from McGonagall. Of course, his Slytherin friends had accepted his lie immediately. Draco would not be feeling this horrible now if he had not seen the look in Hermione eyes. The look of utterly betrayal sliced through his heart like a thousand knives. And worst of all, Draco had hit a girl. He had shoved Hermione in retaliation when she kicked him. Draco had promised himself never to hurt a girl, but now he had. This was not what his mother had brought him up to be.

He felt so ashamed of himself. Hermione had been crying and was brought away by her best friends. Draco didn't know what to do now. He was so full of pride for himself that when his "friends" had questioned his motives, he had become the coward he was before the war and immediately lied through his teeth. He was too much of a coward to go against the famous pureblooded beliefs in Slytherin and defend Hermione. He recalled even giving Hermione a disgusted look when he caught Astoria looking at him skeptically. That had been difficult, but he had been trained by his father to deliver false expressions. His friends had been laughing and laughing till tears had been streaming down their cheeks, while Draco just stood stonily at the side trying to give out a weak chuckle. He had been congratulated. A few years back, Draco would have felt so proud at this and would be puffing his chest out and making girls swoon. Now, he wondered if his friendly relationship with Hermione was more important and whether gaining acceptance from his housemates were worth destroying his friendship with 'Mione.

"Hello, earth to Draco?" A hand was waving itself back and forth of Draco's face, which startled Draco out of his thoughts. Nott was trying to shake Draco out of his daze while the other Slytherins were looking at him with concern. Draco forced out a smirk and then the Slytherins were back at it again, patting him on the back and then most of them dispersed, walking away with their best buddies and recounting the incident with a grin on their faces. Only two Slytherins remained now. They were his closest friends whom he knew he could trust. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zaibini. Blaise mouthed, wanna talk? Draco found himself nodding as the trio made their way to the Heads common room. He mumbled the password to the portrait and it swung forward for him after the occupants of the painting looked a little disgustedly at him. No doubt the incident had spread like wildfire from picture to picture and now everyone knew. Draco just walked in ashamed, unable to meet the gaze of the painting and Blaise and Pansy followed him in. He was glad that Hermione was not back in the dormitory, as this would have made their conversation really awkward. He wasn't ready to face the wrath of Hermione yet. He just needed some time.

For privacy, Draco led his friends into his room, where he proceeded to put up a whole bunch of silencing charms and locking charms to ensure that Hermione would not be able to overhear what he was saying to his friends. After all, she didn't trust him now, least of all his housemates and best pals. Draco knew after this incident, all the perceptions that Hermione once had of him would change, and she would go back to hating him like she used to. He sighed. He deserved this. Pansy and Blaise were looking worriedly at him now, and Draco knew he must look quite terrible. He didn't know what to say to his friends, really, would they mock him if he told them about his friendship with Hermione? The silence in the room prolonged, and Pansy and Blaise merely shifted themselves to a comfortable position on the bed. His friends knew him all too well, they knew he would talk when he felt up to it. When he didn't, there was no point forcing him to. Nobody ever got anything out from him willingly. Not even Bellatrix when he tortured him once, thinking that he had been lying when he said he didn't recognize Potter. He was a brilliant Occlumens, and was as stubborn as a mule. Nothing, almost nothing, could persuade him to change his mind.

Draco knew that the three of them were practically outcasts now. Even though his Malfoy name was still greatly feared within the Slytherin community, he wasn't their so-called Slytherin prince anymore. Everyone knew that those who had been in the Dark Side during the war was in Azkaban after numerous trials, or were dead, or were soul-less. Draco had been amongst the few who had been pardoned, together with his two friends and his mother. Blaise and Pansy had remained neutral during the war, despite Pansy being a complete bitch to Hermione during their school years. They had not taken sides and had chosen to flee from the Wizarding World for a brief period. They were not guilty for fighting against the light side, and none of their family members were convicted even though their fathers had been Death Eaters when they had fled. Both of them knew it was lucky that Voldemort had been preoccupied with killing Harry Potter and murdering muggle neighbourhoods to threaten the Golden Trio that he had not deployed any of his followers to track down Mr Zabini and Mr Parkinson. Hence, both families had managed to survive through the war unscathed. Draco, however, was an entirely different story. He had taken part in the war, serving Voldemort, but not out of free will. The court had not charged both himself and his mother because of their last minute switch of sides. Due to Narcissa's lie, Harry had managed to vanquish the Dark Lord once and for all. For that, his mother had been pardoned. Lucius Malfoy's trial was one of the quickest. Everyone had looked at him in disgust and almost immediately after all the truths came tumbling out of his mouth under Veritaserum, he had been sentenced to the Kiss. Draco Malfoy thought he was doomed when he had been summoned and Harry Potter was to testify. He knew that he was going to Azkaban and prayed to all the Gods above that there would be a miracle.

His prayers had miraculously been answered, and it was to his relief when Potter had relayed the events of Dumbledore's death and how Draco had been forced to do it. Potter spoke of how Draco had been too frightened to kill Dumbledore and instead Snape had finished the task under Dumbledore's orders. He told of how Draco was close to accepting protection from Dumbledore and how distraught and torn he had been. Snape's memory had also been brought forward and everyone was convinced that he had been young and foolish and afraid, and should not be held responsible for his father's mistakes. After all, his family's life had been at stake and even though Draco could care less about his father's death, he loved his mother dearly. After Potter's "heartwarming" testimony, where a few of the Wizengamot were brushing away tears, he had been pardoned with a warning. The two formal mortal enemies had exchanged a nod and Draco's mother had done a very un-Malfoy-like thing by getting onto her knees and thanking Potter for helping her son. Potter had flushed deeply and Draco had to try very hard not to snicker at his expression before helping Narcissa up and muttering many "no problems" under his breath. By now, Draco's mother was a blubbering mess and had hugged Potter very hard. Clearly, Potter had kept cool even in front of Voldemort, but now, he was clearly at a loss of what to do. He was awkwardly patting her back and trying to calm her down.

Draco had decided to step in at that moment and placed a gentle hand on his mother's shoulders. His mother threw her arms around him and erupted into a fit of sobs again, all the while mumbling "my sweet Draco, my baby boy". Potter had laughed out loud and Draco had given him one of his best laugh-again-or-tell-anyone-and-you-are-dead looks. Draco had led his mother to the fireplace where they had flooed out of the ministry after shaking Potter's hand. They had immediately let go after that brief moment and then his mother and him had apparated home. His mother had then spent the rest of the entire day weeping softly in joy before finally composing herself when Draco went to bed, claiming that he was extremely tired. Once inside his room, Draco had jumped about in his room, startling his eagle owl Artemis, who gave an indignant hoot at being awakened. He jumped on his bed for a brief moment while his owl flapped its wings angrily. After a while, Draco felt more calm and then snuggled under his covers after patting and apologizing to Artemis. He was overjoyed at being free. From that day on, Draco swore never to insult the Golden Trio again, or hurt them in any way. Until today.

Draco let out a resigned sigh. He turned to face Pansy and Blaise, who were both watching him with pensive expressions on their faces. Skipping over the unimportant facts, Draco relayed to them the friendship between Hermione and himself, leaving out the breakup between Hermione and the Weasel.

"This past few days have been extremely crazy. For one, I've formed a friendship with Hermione Granger, muggle-born extraordinaire. You cannot begin to believe how much I like having conversations with her. She is intelligent and she's extremely forgiving. But she couldn't have expected me to change suddenly and become all Gryffindor and brave, now could she? Inside, I'm still that little boy who was afraid of standing up for himself and trying to gain popularity. I've messed everything up now. She won't want to talk to me anymore. IS THIS PAYBACK FOR BEING ON THE WRONG SIDE DURING THE WAR? IS IT? I CAN'T BELIEVE JUST THAT ONE MOMENT OF COWARDICE WOULD CAUSE THIS. I GAINED TRUST, AND NOW I'VE LOST IT! I'M A BLOODY FUCKING IDIOT BUT I CAN'T HELP IT. I'M SCARED OF GOODNESS-KNOWS-WHAT AND FUCK THIS, BUT I STILL FEEL THE THRILL OF POPULARITY, AND I WANT TO FEEL SUPERIOR. Fuck, I'm just like my father."

Draco sagged down onto the couch again, after having stood up furiously in the middle of his outburst. He placed his head onto his hands, how had this happened? I told myself that I hate my father's ways and detest his beliefs, but here I am, I'm just as bad as him. Oh god. What have I done? He stayed like that for a long time, and his friends were silent. They didn't disturb his peace, merely patting him on the back before leaving him to his peace. Draco lifted his head slightly, and was met by the gentle gazes of his two friends. They understood. That was enough for Draco. He got up from the couch and trudged over to his bedroom. Even though he doubted Hermione would return anytime soon, he wasn't going to take his chances. Draco couldn't face her now. He needed to think things through. He cast a strong locking and silencing spell around his room and angered, he picked up the nearest object, his mirror and threw it against the wall. It shattered upon impact. It made Draco feel better by a smidgen, relieving his anger, but this was childish and he knew it. Digging out a bottle of Firewhiskey, he drank his sorrows away, and then as his eyelids started to droop shut, the bottle fell with a clink out of his hands and he slumped over on his table, completely knocked out from the whiskey.

Blaise's POV:

Blaise was a quiet man, but he was not unobservant. Whenever he was quiet, he took in every little detail of his surroundings, which possibly made him the most dangerous Slytherin, since he knew everything about everyone. He knew that Astoria had lost her virginity to Marcus Flint back in 4th year, and her sister Daphne had been disapproving and even argued with Astoria. The two sisters had kept it quiet though, choosing to appear like everything was fine in public, but Blaise knew better. He knew that Harry Potter kept his wand hidden underneath the sleeve of his robes, and that Hermione Granger had a pet cat named Crookshanks. He knew the behaviours of practically everyone and understood their characters. Blaise could see through lies immediately and focused on the most mundane acts that gave him a clue as to how someone was feeling.

If someone were to compare him to a character in a muggle book, they would say he was like Jasper Cullen in the Twilight series. He was cool and mostly kept to himself, but Jasper could influence people's emotions and sense them. This made him the most observant of the Cullen cult, and Blaise was exactly the same, without the whole supernatural fast-speed fiction. Blaise was able to completely mask his emotions, and he was second best at Occlumency in his house, with Draco being the best. It was hard to penetrate through the metal walls of his mind, even when he was feeling particularly emotional or even when he was drunk, which made him appear extremely mysterious to the people whom he was not close to, which was practically everyone except for Pansy and Draco. Blaise liked it this way. He liked his privacy, and since no one stuck their noses into his business, he was a relatively good student who never went out of his way to cause harm to others. Although he had been really good friends with Draco since they were kids, Blaise didn't take part in any of the disputes or duels that Draco had against the Golden Trio. Despite this, he was still very close to Draco.

Draco treated him like an equal, and it was not the same as his bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle. Both of them didn't count as friends, they were merely a security and people you keep beside you to make yourself feel good. It was almost like "friends with benefits", except not that kind of benefits. Blaise shuddered. The muggle movie that he had watched on the "teffilision" when he was hiding out in muggle London gave him a totally new insight to that phrase. After that, he had made sure to look at the rating of the movie before borrowing it. Now, as Blaise trudged down the cold corridors leading to the Slytherin common room, he wondered what exactly was the factor that had kept Draco and himself together despite their different positions in the War and their different behaviours in school. Maybe it's because I never really stuck to him like my life depended on it, and maybe he admires that I can stand on my own two feet and make decisions for myself.

Blaise had always liked Draco, the other side of Draco: the Draco who was not busy with gaining fame and getting into his father's good books. That was the Draco that he and Pansy knew about, the reserved and funny Draco. Whenever Draco was around his posse though, he went out of his way to make the Golden Trio's life a living nightmare, which of course made his father pleased and in turn his housemates respected him. The Draco in public was a conniving little bastard, who had been deeply confused and unable to think for himself. But that was eons ago before the war when Draco was still a little boy who hung onto his father's every word. Gone was that twitchy little ferret who didn't think about what he was doing. Now, Draco was different, and he had made sure Blaise and Pansy knew that he was not like his father. This Draco had disappeared today in a moment of panic, and the old Draco had resurfaced, once again hurting Granger. Blaise had stood by silently as Draco stood there conflicted between helping Granger, and defending himself. He had chosen the safer side.

Blaise was disappointed in him for doing that, but he understood. These things, like pride and the need to belong, had been deeply rooted into Draco's very being from the day he was born. His father had lectured him on and on about Slytherin pride and how Draco should treat those without pureblood status as unworthy and lowly. This had of course changed after the war and Blaise was very sure that Draco no longer thought this way. After all, the brightest witch of her age was a muggle-born! When Draco had chosen to defend himself and ridicule the Head Girl, he had a look of pride, but it was gone in a split second when he looked at Granger. What was pride was now replaced by pain. It was obvious that Draco no longer felt pleasure in doing this, but because of his pride, he had not done anything. This was the Draco who had always wanted to belong in the "in" crowd, which in Slytherin, was the "do-whatever-is-possible-to-upset-the-Gryffindor-princess" crowd.

When Draco had exploded just now, Blaise knew then and there that that boy was not his father. Sure, they had the same physical appearances; blonde hair, high cheekbones, the posture of aristocracy, but their hearts were quite different indeed. Draco had expressed his hate for his father and fear of being exactly like him, and in situations like this, he knew better than to interfere. This had happened before, the night before Draco had been supposed to kill Dumbledore, and he had broke down, not wanting to be a murderer like his father. Blaise had sat there calmly letting him vent his anger, and gradually Draco managed to calm down. That boy was just a poor misled child, and in the end, he hadn't been able to complete his task.

Blaise would talk to him tomorrow. He stood outside the portrait leading to the Slytherin Dungeons for a while, praying that this prophecy that they were part of would change perceptions for the better and let them prove that not all Slytherins were evil conniving bastards, then whispered the password, swiftly entering the common room and heading up to the boy dormitories. He gently pushed the door open and whirled around, shutting the door behind him with a click before falling onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling. He stayed like that for a long time, thinking about how he was going to explain Draco's absence from class, since he was sure that boy would not go to class and was probably already drunk on several bottles of firewhiskey, and pondered about their—Pansy, Draco, and his—past, present and the future.

Hermione's POV:

Hermione gathered her wits pretty soon after hearing about the piece of news from her best friends. She still needed to go to class. There was no way she would allow some stupid run-in with Malfoy to ruin the rest of her day. Additionally, Hermione now needed to see the piece of news for herself, and that could be easily done once she had finished whatever assignment assigned to them. She grabbed Harry's issue of the Prophet and slipped it into her tote bag, then hurriedly rushed down the corridor to Potions. She was sure that Professor Snape would deduct house points and give her a detention, but she couldn't care less anymore. This was important. It was the clue to what could be happening in the prophecy, and judging from the murders, Hermione could guess Voldemort supporters were at it again. She just needed to find specific pieces of evidences and information hidden between the lines to show who these murderers were targeting. This was her responsibility. She was war hero Hermione Granger after all, was she not?

She stepped into the Potions classroom, shivering from the chill of the dungeons. She mumbled an incoherent apology to Snape and accepted his deduction of house points and his issue of a detention without arguing back for the first time. She scoffed. Even though Snape had fought with them during the War, he was still as biased as ever and hated Gryffindors. Harry had confronted him about Lily and he seemed to be a little nicer to them, but it was an imperceptible smidgen. Snape still enjoyed swooping around the school in his black cloak and deducting points from unsuspecting Gryffindors for offences like taking a library book outside of the school. It was ridiculous, really. The greasy-haired professor gave her a disbelieving look as she passed, but Hermione knew he had caught sight of the article that was sticking out of her bag, judging from the widening of his eyes. She quickly scanned the classroom for an empty seat and thankfully there was one next to her best friends. She plopped herself down and took out the Prophet.

Placing it underneath her Potions notes, she began to read it in great detail, rereading it a few times before taking out some parchment and quill to jot down notes about the murder. It was obvious that the killers were targeting muggle-borns since they had left a subtle warning in the house of the two victims. She read through the description of the couple again and goosebumps involuntarily broke out when she realised the woman had brown curly hair. That's what I look like, could it be… Hermione frantically skipped to the part about the gruesome murder, and this time, she felt really frightened. The carving of the word "mudblood", the desire to torture the victims before killing them. This crime matches the character of the muggle-born hater Bellatrix Lestrange. And if she was out to target her again…Calm down 'Mione, this may not be what you think. Besides, she got killed my Mrs Weasley, and you saw that with your own eyes. There's no way she's out to get you. Besides, Hermione thought, it says the victim was raped. She didn't think Lestrange was the one for this. It was more of Greyback…Oh god. No, no, no he died, he got killed by one of the aurors during the Final Battle. Relax, take deep breaths…

Hermione yelped slightly as the paper was snatched from under her Potions notes that she had already done up weeks prior to the lesson. She looked upwards to see the Prophet clenched tightly in Snape's hand as he fingered the paper while his eyes stared down at her from above his hooked nose. Hermione saw her sneer and piercing gaze, and she had a feeling what Snape was going to say. Seriously, after all these years, that guy's still a right ol' git, thought Hermione.

"And what seems to be so important here Miss Granger, that requires your attention more urgently than listening to my lecture? Ah, I see you have done all your notes prior to the class, now don't interrupt me Miss Granger," he drawled as Hermione opened her mouth, "I know you haven't written a single letter on your parchment since the start of class. So let's see, what is so interesting in the paper today hmm? Ah, I see, of course, war hero Miss Granger has sensed a piece of crisis and can't wait to save the Wizarding World again! Well, there's nothing in here to worry yourself over Miss Granger, I assure you that the Ministry will take charge of investigations. 50 points from Gryffindor for reading non-related material in my class and another 10 off for wanting to interrupt me just now. Detention tonight at 10pm. Anything you would like to say Miss Granger?" Hermione had an indignant look on her face but she shook her head from side to side, knowing better than to argue with him.

"Good, now if you all dunderheads would turn to page 890 of your potions textbook. Well, go on, what are you waiting for?" Snape sneered one last time at Hermione before whirling around and gliding back to the front of the class.

Hermione scoffed. If she hadn't heard accounts of what Snape had did for them during the battle, she would still believe he was evil. He was still the professor that everyone disliked the most, well, apart from the Slytherins of course. If Harry hadn't told her about Snape's patronus, Hermione would automatically assume that it would be a bat since he always seemed to walk around like one. That man really needs to get his priorities straight, Hermione thought while rolling her eyes. She reluctantly turned the pages of her book to 890 and sat there stoic throughout the rest of the lesson. Harry and Ron kept shooting her glances from the side but she ignored them. She chose to observe the class instead, and realised that Malfoy was not amongst the students and there was one empty seat at the Slytherin side of the room. Huh, coward.

She was sure he was probably hiding in his room like the coward he was, not daring to come out and possibly face her wrath. Good, Hermione thought, let him be scared of me. Let him regret what he did. It's about time. Hermione wasted the rest of the time away, and then the minute Snape dismissed them, she went straight out of the dungeons and into her next class, not paying to all the remaining lessons of the day. She was too busy thinking about the prophecy. She was glad she had somewhat of a photographic memory to remember almost all the details of the article. Hermione was actually deciding whether she should hide her family away again, but at the end of the day, she deduced she was being silly and she should wait for things to become clearer before making a decision. She honestly had no heart to place her parents into a life of lies again.

She glanced at the clock and sighed, the rest of the classes had passed in a blur while she sat in a daze trying to comfort herself that this was possibly an isolated case and that Snape was right and the ministry was already looking into it. However, the more rational part of her knew that this was not the case. The ministry was still so busy with rebuilding the foundations of the Wizarding World, and after the war, there were architectures to be refurbished, laws to be put in place, and the whole auror department was going out of their minds trying to make sure that no Death Eaters had been unaccounted for. The court room was a busy one nowadays, as there were many minor Death Eaters being tried. There had of course been widespread news coverage about Bellatrix Lestrange being killed my Molly Weasley and how Lucius Malfoy, Travers, Rowle, and other major Death Eaters had been sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss. She hoped the ministry had missed out anyone important, and that they would look into this case thoroughly soon. Hermione knew that there were only a few aurors being dispatched to poke around the murder scene, the rest were busy doing paperwork and running through the lists of suspected death eaters.

Hermione knew that it was time to go for detention with Professor Snape. She felt slightly remorseful for not listening during the classes, but she was on edge when she heard about the article. She lay back on her bed for a few minutes, and closed her eyes, appreciating the peace around her before flashing them open and leaping off it and rushed to the dungeons. She figured being a bit late won't hurt, and when she left, she couldn't help but realise that the door to Malfoy's room was locked. She had even placed her ear on his door and listened in for any kind of movement, but there had been none and she realised he had either put up a silencing charm on his room, or fallen asleep, or both. She walked down the dimly lit corridors, and politely knocked on the door leading towards the potions professor's office, after making sure she looked like she was flustered and had been in a hurry. Hermione was in no mood for detention. She had hoped she could spend more time thinking about the current problem or even better still, study for her upcoming NEWTs. Hermione knew Harry and Ron had told her countless times that she had been prepared for her NEWTs since 2nd year, but she still wanted to review all her notes and make sure that she would achieve the desired results. When she heard a "come in", she lightly pushed open the door and stepped into the chilly room, making sure to pant slightly.

Snape was sitting calmly behind his mahogany table and grading assignments. He looked up evenly at Hermione as she entered and gave her a nod of acknowledgement, though his hand never stopped grading the parchment. He gestured to her to sit down and Hermione sat down cautiously, preparing herself to get lectured about being one minute late. Surprisingly, the professor merely thrust a thick stack of unmarked assignments to her and slid a bottle of red ink and a quill in front of her. She looked down at the parchments in shock, she had been expecting to clean cauldrons without magic, or even a fifteen minute lecture about how she had been disrespectful in class.

"Grade these parchments in one hour, Miss Granger, they are 6-foot essays on the properties of the moonstone, and they are the works of first-years. My eyes are just burning from these terribly wrong facts that they have listed in this essay. Their work is almost as atrocious as Mr Potter and his sidekick. I trust you know how slipshod their work is, those imbeciles, but you have always had the reputation of a know-it-all, and I'm sure you would have no idea giving them proper grades and correcting their ridiculous mistakes, am I right, Miss Granger?" Snape addressed her snidely.

Hermione blushed slightly and nodded her head frantically in response to his question. Had Snape just complimented me indirectly? And what happened to the lecture? She didn't question his motives, but rather hurriedly picked up the quill and started grading the work. She giggled slightly as she went through each parchment. Snape had been right, the essays were very alike to those that Harry and Ron had handed in to Snape when she had refused to help them. Snape looked up at her almost boredly and she flushed slightly and looked down again but not before catching a slight smirk at the corner of the professor's lips. She scribbled accurate facts onto the papers and cancelled out the errors. Most of the students received a D from her. At the end of an hour, her hand was throbbing from the grading of so many papers. I'll never be a teacher. Snape collected the parchments back from her and looked through them quickly, before commenting, "Why, Miss Granger, it seems you are stricter than me." He showed her his pile of parchments, which were as terribly done as hers, but they were mostly Cs. She flushed.

"Well, Miss Granger, it seems that we are almost done here, but before I dismiss you, I would like to return this to you as I'm sure you would need this for your upcoming investigations." Snape withdrew the prophet that he had confiscated earlier and handed it over to Hermione. Hermione reached out, and in one swift motion, Snape lifted up the sleeve of her robes and exposed the tattoo that rested on her skin. She recoiled and took the paper with trembling hands.

"Now, I'm sure you're wondering why I'm giving this back to you, and I shall not withhold my intentions from you. Basically, I have already proven my theory to be correct that you are involved in this damned prophecy, and you would need this article to analyse, though I'm sure the reason why you were exactly 1 min and 5 seconds late was because you have been thinking about this. Now, on to the reason why I took it from you in the first place was because you were catching a lot of curious glances as to why you weren't listening to class, and before students would question why the git-of-a-professor, don't interrupt Miss Granger, yes I know I'm being called that, was not dealing with you, I stepped in and acted like the prat I was." Snape finished and calmly stood up as if nothing had happened, strode over to the door and opened it for her, gesturing for her to get out.

Hermione was stood up slowly, her mouth still opening and closing like a fish out of water, and her brain trying desperately to catch up with the events that just occurred. Had Snape been nice to me? The world must be going crazy, or I'm dreaming. To make sure she wasn't, she pinched herself and winced in pain. Nope, still here. This is not a dream. Her little action was not missed by Snape, who rolled his eyes at her stupidity and motioned for her to get out. Realising she was keeping the professor, she immediately got out of the room, muttering her thanks.

"Now, now, Miss Granger, no need to stutter, and close your mouth, you must be trying to catch flies. Oh, and there will be no need to tell anyone about my act of kindness, since I happen to like my reputation of being the most feared and evil professor in this school compound, thank you very much. But, ah, I happen to know that Mr Potter and Mr Weasley would question you, so I suppose you can tell them. Oh, and Miss Granger, don't judge Mr Malfoy so quickly. God knows that boy is a coward, but he means well, and before you ask, yes, I know what happened before my class, you're not the only person who is a know-it-all you know?" Snape actually managed to give a rare chuckle to Hermione, who was standing outside of the dungeons with a shocked look on her face. Hermione bade goodnight to her professor again and turned to walk back to her Head dormitories, when his voice stopped her again.

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes, professor?"

"Good luck," and with that, the Potions Master gave a sharp nod to her and shut the door behind him, leaving Hermione to stand in the deserted corridor, confused. She slowly walked back to her dormitory, pondering about the strange events that had happened today. She hadn't known that Professor Snape was so observant, and she wondered what it meant when the professor had defended Malfoy. How can that boy mean well? It's just a load of bull, Hermione, don't listen to him. But Hermione felt compelled to forgive Malfoy. The stubborn side of her refused, however, but eventually they came to a consensus: Hermione would let Malfoy have a chance to explain himself, if he even explains himself, and she'll see whether he was worthy of forgiveness after that. The professor had also mentioned the prophecy during detention, and she knew that he had an inkling that the murder was connected to the prophecy. Hermione hoped that in time to come when the events of the prophecy start, she would be able to consult this man when she faced difficulties.

Sometimes Hermione just felt as if she wasn't cut out to be this. This whole saving the world thing, it was something she had been doing since she was 11. The philosopher's stone, the chamber of secrets where she had been petrified, the prisoner of Azkaban, the goblet of fire, being in the order of the phoenix, discovering that Snape was the half-blood prince who had invented many shortcuts to the making of potions, and finally trying to destroy the many horcruxes that Voldemort had created. This was all work for an adult, not for a girl like her. This was like Harry Potter's job. But she had always been helping him, had she not. Ever since she had known she was a witch, her life had become thrown into a world of chaos and destruction, and everything had turned from the normal to the weird. She thought after the war she would have a chance at normalcy. But Merlin, Hermione thought, these days are becoming weirder and weirder. The next thing I know, I might wake up and see Malfoy dressed in a tutu and Snape dancing ballet during breakfast. Chuckling to herself, Hermione went up to her room and collapsed onto the bed. She was too exhausted to shower. She would do that in the morning before breakfast.