A/N: Ady71 (guest) hopes for no deaths... but you've already met six people who will definitely die! Take a guess if you want. I don't think anyone will get all of them right. Or even half of them. *evil laughter*

Chapter 10

Partners

"With any luck, none of you will never run into one of these buggers, but nevertheless," Gilderoy Lockhart prattled at the front of the classroom, "You should be prepared to confront a gargoyle at any time."

Malfoy had taken it upon himself to sit next to Hermione in every class after potions. She was stuck between humoring his new sociable streak and kicking him to the curb. She had told him off the first time it happened but he responded by asking if Pansy had been lashing out with her tongue. She hadn't. So Hermione let it go. But that didn't mean she was pleased with this new development.

He might have a decent work ethic in potions, but that ended the second he stepped out of Snape's lair. In every other class he spent his time passing notes to his cronies, doodling, or straight-up daydreaming. That was when he wasn't baiting any Potter or Weasley he spotted.

Hermione appreciated a good Weasley bait as much as the next Slytherin, but at a certain point it turned into avoiding your responsibilities. And if there was anything Hermione detested more than a Weasley, it was a freeloader.

Malfoy was definitely freeloading.

The scratch of a quill caught her attention as Malfoy drew a small image in Year of the Yeti. Hermione stared at him, considering the consequences of impaling his pale hand with his own quill. Points off Slytherin, probably. Detention, most likely. Possibly expulsion. His father would hear of it, to be sure. Might be worth it, though.

"Miss Granger," a stern voice called her back from her thoughts. Lockhart was frowning. "The gargoyle is up here." He motioned at the still stone form crouching on his desk. "Pay attention, please."

She felt her face heat up. Half the class wasn't paying attention. He was singling her out. And not in a good way. Hermione wanted to tell him off, take the matter to Dumbledore. Or Snape. Though she wasn't sure if they would do anything. Snape was just as unfair to the Gryffindors and Dumbledore hadn't stopped him yet.

Hermione glared hatefully at Lockhart's pristine hair for the rest of the period and was the first one up after class ended. She stomped back to the dungeons. Hermione wanted to look through her spell books to find something that make an explosion.

She was almost across the common room when someone called out, "Oi, Granger, where you going?"

Malfoy and company were dropping their bags at a table along the outer wall.

"My room, Malfoy. Where you can't bother me."

He jerked his head as if slapped and put a hand to his heart. "Oh, Granger, you wound me."

"What do you want?"

"There's a potions essay due tomorrow."

"I know."

"So let's get to work."

Hermione considered the group at the table. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy. Add to that a Malfoy and she arrived at the inevitable response, "Hell, no."

"Come on, Granger. I have Quidditch tonight. I have to get it done now."

"We never agreed to this. I don't even know why you are sitting next to me in other classes. That's just creepy. Besides, I'm busy."

"Doing what?"

Hermione's lip curled upwards. "The potions essay."

"You little…" Malfoy was fighting off something between a snarl and a smile.

"This was never part of the deal, Malfoy. I don't know why you're so perplexed." Hermione enjoyed the little twit realize that he didn't always get his way. "Maybe you should tell your father…"

"Fine, Granger," Malfoy spat. "New deal."

"Oh?"

"Study partners. For every class."

"Now, when you say 'study partners'…"

"We work together. Get easy O's."

"I could do that without you."

"But you wouldn't have as much extra time."

"For what?"

"Whatever you do when you disappear."

Hermione paused. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you can't always be in the library, and Pansy says you're hardly ever in your room. You're doing something."

"I don't know what you mean," Hermione replied flatly after a moment.

"Whatever. I don't want to know what you get up to. The point is we both benefit."

"Because I'm the better wizard."

Malfoy blinked. "I never said–"

"Say it. I'm the better wizard."

"No," he growled. "You can't be."

"Why not? You need my help. You've admitted that."

"I don't need…" he said sullenly, brow furrowed.

Hermione tapped her foot as she waited for the sentence that she would never hear.

Then Malfoy mumbled it.

"I didn't catch that."

"I said," he muttered. "You're the better student."

"That's not what I told you to say."

"It's what I said."

Hermione considered him for a moment. It was probably the best she was going to get out of him. "Very well, Malfoy. Come." She marched back across the common room.

"Where're you going?"

"Come," she repeated.

"I'm not some dog you can command." But he still followed her after a second. She emerged from the Slytherin dorms into the dusky dungeon corridor, Malfoy on her heels. Hermione led him to an empty classroom and pulled him in, locking the door. "So this is what you've been doing?" Malfoy smirked. "I'd never peg you for a naughty girl, Granger. It seems your blood isn't the only dirty thing about–"

Hermione rounded and slapped him across the face. Hard.

"Merlin!" Malfoy exclaimed. "What was that for?"

She slapped him again. As with the first, he wasn't expecting it and now had two red marks on either cheek. "That's it," he growled, reaching into his robes. Hermione was faster.

"Expelliarmus!" She watched with glee as Malfoy's wand flipped out of his hand and into hers. "Alright, Malfoy. New deal. My terms."

Malfoy's entire face was now pink. She didn't know if that was down to getting slapped twice, being disarmed by a muggle-born, or being disarmed by girl. Probably all of them. Just wait until his father hears about this, she giggled to herself.

"Tell me about the Chamber of Secrets," she said.

"The Chamber of Secrets?" he asked, astonished. "You still on about that?"

"Spill, Malfoy. I know you know something."

He swayed from side to side, considering his options. "I know the Chamber was opened before," he offered after a minute.

"And?" Hermione still had her wand pointed at him.

"Fifty years ago," he said.

He'd already spilled the beans on that. "Who opened it?"

"I assume the Heir."

"What happened?"

"A girl died."

He wasn't being very helpful. "Who?"

"I don't know."

"How did it stop?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I suppose the guy was caught."

"So who was it?"

He shrugged again. "Don't know."

"What do you know?"

"I know the school almost shut down."

"How do you know all this?"

"Father told me."

"And you don't know who opened it this time?"

Malfoy rolled his head around in an ambiguous way. "Well…" Hermione stepped forward and jabbed her wand at him. Malfoy yelped and jumped backwards. "I don't know!"

Hermione frowned. If Malfoy didn't know, who else would? Possibly one of the older Slytherins, but Malfoy would probably have weaseled it out of them by now. The teachers might have a guess. But none of them were talking about the girl fifty years ago, or even about the Chamber being opened before.

After a minute, Hermione sighed. "Fine," she tossed Malfoy's wand back to him. "But if you don't know anything, I need something else."

"What?"

"Practice," Hermione grinned. "Expelliarmus!"

I-I. ⌡. Γ┐

"I wouldn't mind having one of these hung up on my wall," Pansy commented as she paged through Scamander at a rate that indicated she was not absorbing any information at all. While everyone else was working on the essay, Pansy was looking at the pictures. "Say what you want about Lockhart, but he knows how to pick interesting creatures." Hermione suppressed a snort.

"You're not done already, are you?" Crabbe asked, brow furrowed and eyes flicking back and forth from his parchment to the book.

"I'll finish later," Pansy said.

Malfoy was writing away in his elegant script, hardly pausing to find a reference in his textbook. "We're finishing now, Pansy," he said.

Pansy pulled her legs close to her chest and flipped a few more pages. "I'll finish later."

"Then you'll finish without us," Malfoy growled. He finished writing with a flourish and dropped his quill on the table. "There. Done."

"Welcome to the club," Hermione muttered, having already moved on to the transfiguration homework.

"Some of us aren't swots," Pansy spat back without raising her eyes from her pictures.

It was at these times that Hermione wished she had taken her dad up on his offer of boxing lessons. Breaking Pansy's nose would be great stress relief. Hermione turned to Malfoy. He was staring off into space, showing no indication he was going to muzzle his bitch. "Some of us don't fail classes," Hermione purred back at her.

Pansy looked up from her book. "Watch your mouth."

"Watch your marks," she snapped.

Pansy bared her teeth. "I will hurt you, slag."

"I'd like to see you try," snarled Hermione. "Make sure you know which end of your wand to hold. It'd be a shame if you failed that class, too."

Pansy leapt out of her chair, hand diving into her robes. Crabbe and Goyle, quick for their size, backed away from the table. Hermione was up, too, but before her hand closed on her wand Pansy yelped and crumpled back into her seat, clutching her shin.

Malfoy coughed slightly into his hand. "Ladies, keep it civil."

"Ladies?" Pansy gagged. "She's a mudbl–"

Suddenly Malfoy was standing over Pansy. "I said civil, Parkinson."

Pansy's face was reddening in a rage and she stood up to face Malfoy. She looked to be barely holding back a screech. "You – you – what is with you?" she squawked. "I never though a Malfoy would be a blood traitor." The last word died out in a garble. Malfoy had grabbed her neck and pushed her against a wall. Pansy swatted for his face but she was intercepted by the meaty hands of Crabbe and Goyle; they held her arms against the wall, pinning her there. Hermione watched as the long white fingers of Malfoy squeezed against the bulging throat of her enemy. A sly grin spread across her face and she leaned forward to catch Malfoy's whisper.

"If," he breathed, almost nose to nose with Pansy, "you ever insult my name again, I will gut you like the pig you are." Her face was beginning to turn purple. Malfoy leaned closer and said something into her ear. Pansy's eyes bulged.

Then she slid down the wall as the boys released her. She leaned against the wall for a moment, sucking in air, then bolted towards the dormitories, and directly into the path of Theodore Nott. The tall, thin boy seemed to drop his shoulder instinctively, clipping Pansy and sending her tumbling. "Pansy," he commented, his face impassive. After a second he slowly extended a hand to help her up but she ignored it, half-crawling as she clawed her way back to her feet and down the corridor. Hermione supressed a laugh. Pathetic. Nott withdrew his hand with the same measured lethargy and watched her run off. He turned back to the group. His eyes fixed on Malfoy. "What did you do to her?" he asked softly.

Malfoy shrugged as he took his seat again, followed by his henchmen. "She was out of order."

Nott looked back the way Pansy ran, then took her empty seat. "Nothing permanent, I hope."

"She doesn't know when to stay down," Hermione said as she sat. Nott flicked his expressionless eyes to her for a brief second before looking away.

"Where have you been, Theo?" Malfoy asked him.

"I had to owl father," he said. "Are you sure it was best to… discipline Pansy?" Malfoy responded with a single raised eyebrow. That bastard can do that? "We wouldn't want you to ruin your father's plans."

"You're mad, Theo," Malfoy scoffed. "Pansy figures into none of my father's plans. What made you think that?"

Nott cocked his head. "She was talking about the summer…"

"What about summer?" Malfoy frowned.

"You know…"

"Say what you mean, Theo," Malfoy challenged.

"I just thought…" he trailed off, eyes now resting somewhere above Malfoy's head. Hermione stole a glance at Crabbe and Goyle. Just spectators to the aristocracy's little game. They were as lost as she was. That was reassuring at the same time as it was infuriating. Hermione should never be on the same level as those apes. But they weren't ahead of her either.

Nott took his time before speaking again. "So… No part?"

Now it was Malfoy's turn to consider his friend. These were the little interactions Hermione had been missing out on. The conversations in the Slytherin common room were so much more interesting than the library, even if more confusing. "No part," Malfoy said finally. "Why?"

"Father started talking," Nott shrugged. "I was wondering about you."

"Mother started in on me over the holidays last year," Malfoy nodded. "Father hasn't said much yet."

"You know?"

"I have an idea. You?"

Nott took a beat. "An idea."

Malfoy stared at him a moment before a smile started breaking out. "Really, Theo? You sure about that one?"

Nott sat up straighter in his chair. "I stopped by the Great Hall on my way from the owlry," Malfoy had an evil grin on his face but let Nott change the subject. "There's a duelling club. Tonight."

Building up those characters, little by little. Gotta make up for a year and a half of oblivious!Hemrione.

I swear the plot is around here somewhere... Maybe next chapter.

(I don't think a hint will be necessary)