Title: Voldemort's Daughter
Author: Tsubasa Kya
Dude, where did my disclaimer go?!

Chapter 20: Hermione's Bad Day

If asked by anyone on the face of the planet what the worst day of her life was, Hermione Granger would say that the first day of her sixth school year. The summer had been absolutely spectacular for her. She spent an inordinate amount of time (three whole days!) with Grandmother Granger—and her parents were not present which was even better—and Grandpa Granger had been in better health than usual—his health was in constant flux, so one never was sure if he would keel over one day without warning.

After visiting her grandparents and staying at their home in Muggle London, she was picked up by her parents and took a plane to France where she got to tour Beauxbatons Academy and meet her parents' new neighbors in Paris where they had decided to move their dental practice (Hermione's dad wanted a little bit of change, thus the new scenery). She made a few friends in one of the many bookstores in Paris's equivalent of Diagon Alley. Éclair Aleixandre and Genevieve LeBlanc were two of the most intelligent young women Hermione could swear she'd ever met and were a perfect match for the type of friends she'd always wanted.

Before she'd met those two, she had been border lining the decision to transfer to Beauxbatons, weighing the pros and cons. Better schooling, a new venue, no Slytherins, and the school was just magnificent! Sure, Hogwarts was pretty impressive but when Hermione walked through the halls of Beauxbatons, she was nearly floored. And to hear that most of the population at Beauxbatons were female (as the majority of males transferred to the Magic Academy in Japan), oh, Hermione's heart nearly stopped beating.

Just imagining all those self-empowered women, all of them stepping forward and making good things happen in the world, striving for leverage against the dominant male powers… and it didn't hurt that she'd known French from a young age either. Éclair and Genevieve were so fun and they had incredible ideas for the future. Both were purebloods, but neither cared that she was a muggle-born. They thought she was even more fascinating because she was coming into the wizarding world with a whole new perspective on things.

For instance, computers weren't something wizards used, but they still fascinated the two French girls immensely. The two weeks in France had gone by so quickly as the three immersed themselves in books and research on a very random whim to create something that could be just like the chat rooms online.

She'd learned so much about Vivi (that was her nickname for Genevieve, only because Vivi insisted she be called that—Hermione Granger wasn't lazy though) and Éclair in such a short time. She'd gone to their homes and marveled at their mansions that existed in the heart of Paris and brought them to hers even though her mother fretted over the 'mess'. Well, they hadn't finished unpacking things at that time so it couldn't be helped and the girls knew she just moved there! They didn't have a problem with it!

Vivi was daughter of the French minister of magic, and Éclair was a descendant of a line of French Royalty, though her ancestor was only a sibling of the Royals. However, if it were to come down to much bloodshed and mayhem, Éclair admitted she might have to take up hiding in the mountains because she didn't want to be in line for the throne. "It would be too restricting," Éclair had said. "I can't exactly be an inventor if I'm being primed for stupid things like marriage!"

Hermione had never before connected to anyone that shared so many of the same ideals as her. Vivi was all for S.P.E.W. and everything the movement stood for—or at least, everything the movement would stand for if it ever started going anywhere. So far, Hermione couldn't claim to have spread the idea very far as most of the wizarding world either didn't care about house elves or else firmly believed house elves were truly created to be the blood slaves of mankind.

Heck, Hermione hadn't ever connected to Harry or Ron like Vivi and Éclair either.

But of course two weeks in Paris had slipped away quickly and Hermione had been faced with her most difficult decision of the summer: whether or not she would transfer schools. She had to lay all her cards out on the table to decide what her course of action would be.

The good points at Hogwarts were that she knew her way around, she knew and had a working relationship with the majority of the staff (that being everyone except Professors Snape and Trelawney), she had Harry and Ron, she was a Prefect, and her scores were so perfect she just knew she would be the next Head Girl. She could feel it in her bones…and if she wasn't… she just hoped her life didn't crumble into pieces if something got in the way of her and Head Girl. Or, she prayed for the one who was made Head Girl in her place, because Hermione Granger knew she had a temper problem and if Head Girl was taken away from her she simply could not be blamed for any personal damage to said other woman.

The good points for Beauxbatons were that she simply adored the magnificent French architecture—the flying buttresses, cathedral like ceilings in every room… the school itself taught more theories behind how magic worked and had entire classes devoted on the theory behind different spell workings… and she could have had Vivi and Éclair to talk to every day about whatever she fancied! She couldn't talk theories of Expelliarmus, the disarming charm, with Harry and Ron. The boys simply couldn't keep up!

That was not to say Hermione didn't love the two boys dearly (not that she was in love with Ronald Weasley, of course, though she wasn't sure why she was assuring herself she wasn't since it was true and therefore needed no internal explanations) but Hermione loved talking about the theories behind magical workings and figuring things out and finding a logical working to something that seemed so completely illogical as the idea of magic.

But if she were to compare only the good points, Hogwarts basically won hands down. Of course, Hogwarts had too many bad points for Hermione to list while as of the time Hermione made her decision, the only bad point she could name for Beauxbatons was Fleur Delacour, and that girl would've graduated already. So it was a tough choice.

However, Ron's hysterical letter telling her he couldn't survive without her had made up her mind. She would simply have to return to England and Hogwarts and Ron. (Actually, her logical mind pointed out his hysterical letter actually said he couldn't believe she would go behind his and Harry's back and enroll in a new school when she knew they needed her for help on their Potions assignments, but that he hoped she would write to him and Harry so they didn't have to steal Ginny's letters to know what was going on in France. And he also asked if she met any pretty girls yet.)
Hermione easily kept in touch with her new French friends through owl post, and was still researching how she might create something that could work like an online chat room so she could talk personally with her friends without actually being in France or Floo-fire talking. She always felt so disoriented doing that fire thing. But the girls were pureblooded witches and Hermione hadn't had a chance to teach them anything about phones so for now, owl post was as best she could do.

And now, she was back at Hogwarts, and she could find six new reasons to loathe her decision. Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, three other Slytherin girls Hermione couldn't claim to know the names of, and the new transfer. Hermione wanted to stab herself with a quill the moment they strode so purposefully into her Ancient Runes class. Now, of course, it was still well before any other students should show up to class. The bell had barely just rung and everyone would just be leaving the Great Hall.

Parkinson barely spared Hermione a glance and turned her snooty nose upward as she passed by Hermione's seat and the girls fettered around a table in the back. Hermione had no idea why the Slytherins were present in her classroom, but her pride didn't let her demand an answer. She would hate to be caught without one. How embarrassing!

"So you see, Kagome," Pansy sniffed, "that is why you should have said nothing."

The devilish new transfer asked, "Um, is it okay to talk about it now? I mean…" she glanced at Hermione and Hermione felt her face heat up.

Pansy hummed as if she couldn't care less about whatever it was the transfer was referring to. "Who would Granger tell?" Pansy asked and then said, "She hasn't got any friends anyway."

Hermione felt her blood run cold despite that her face was red. She did too have friends. She was friendly with all the Gryffindors, and Harry and Ron were her best friends. There was also Vivi and Éclair, who were already as close as she'd hoped a bosom buddy would be, even if the term 'bosom buddy' was very old fashioned.

While Kagome didn't laugh out loud at the joke at Hermione's expense, the other Slytherins did and Hermione felt her temper rising fast. The entrance of several Gryffindors and Slytherins stopped Hermione from getting out of her seat. She would hate to let Pansy see she'd gotten to her with her stupid words, or let that new girl know what to say to barb her anger.

Not long afterward, the professor strode into the classroom purposefully and Hermione finally noticed a piece of parchment on her desk that hadn't been there before. She wondered who it was from as she opened it. "Meet me after class or everyone will know about your little crush on Draco Malfoy. Third floor room behind the tapestry of Merlin and Drake."

Hermione growled and crumpled up the letter, turning to glare at Pansy Parkinson. It just had to be Pansy, she knew it had to be. Either that or it was the new transfer… but even Hermione couldn't believe the transfer was already going out of her way to make Hermione's life miserable.

But it was Pansy who met Hermione's eyes and smirked as if she were superior to Hermione in every way, as if she knew some secret that could totally erase every ounce of dignity that Hermione had in one fell swoop. And Pansy wouldn't regret doing it either, would she? No, because Slytherins never felt bad about anything! Slytherins did whatever they pleased with no care whatsoever to what others might feel over the consequences. They had no feelings of remorse, no capability of feeling bad at all.

Professor Trimstra cleared his throat. "Thank you all for returning to Ancient Runes this year and I do apologize if it feels a little more crowded than usual. As a last minute change, Professor Dumbledore has decided to combine a few more classes to promote inter-house unity. It will not affect all of your classes, of course, but Ancient Runes was one of those selected to be combined." He stepped around his desk and glanced over the large class speculatively.

The transfer student raised her hand. Oh for heavens sake, Hermione thought, what questions could the girl possibly have? Even Hermione had no questions for Professor Trimstra yet.

"Yes, Miss…" the professor started, and then seemed to realize he didn't know the transfer's name.

"Higurashi," the transfer provided pleasantly, though Hermione wasn't fooled by her light tone. Hermione knew there was an evil witch beneath all that prettiness. "Kagome Higurashi, sir." The transfer stood up from her seat and Hermione wondered why she did that every time she talked. Was it a custom in her country? Hermione would have to research the behavior. "I was just wondering what combining a few classes will accomplish in a goal to inter-house unity. If it is as I have been told and the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses are as opposite as day and night, then combining a few classes will not make much of a difference." She sat back down at her seat beside Pansy.

"Ah, an excellent question, Miss Higurashi," Professor Trimstra nodded his head and leaned coolly against his desk. Hermione had always liked Professor Trimstra. He was a young man in comparison to most of the teachers, only around thirty five years old. He was only a substitute teacher during fifth year, brought into whichever class they needed him for much like Professor Grubbly-Plank had been their substitute for Care of Magical Creatures a few times. His brown eyes were hidden behind coke-bottle glasses thicker than Harry's and his hairline was receding early, but he had a good nature to him.

It excited Hermione to think that Trimstra was hired on full-time as their new Ancient Runes teacher. She would say she didn't have a crush on Trimstra, except that her notebook was already littered in "I heart Professor Leo Trimstra" and "Hermione Jane Trimstra" and it was only the first day…the first two minutes of class to be precise.

"Let me think a moment," Professor Trimstra said, tapping his chin. "Well, Professor Dumbledore hopes that by combining more Slytherin and Gryffindor classes, forcing students to interact more, the lingering rivalry might cool off a little. Now, don't get me wrong—I think inter-house unity was long coming, but I also don't really understand what Professor Dumbledore is thinking. Truly, I don't think anyone understands his mind. I believe in order to create a change there will first need to be some sort of cataclysmic event to cause the turning point."

Hermione raised her hand and Professor Trimstra smiled at her, nodding that she was free to talk. "But Professor Dumbledore believes this is the right course of action? To combine our classes?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, he does," Professor Trimstra nodded. "And I'm glad you asked, because Professor Dumbledore has also asked me to create a seating chart and I would like you all to keep in mind that Professor Dumbledore believes this is the right course of action."

In moments, a rearranging had occurred and Hermione found herself very tight-lipped, sitting between Kyle Marcus on her left and Pansy Parkinson on her right. She couldn't believe her dumb luck. She was between two Slytherins! She looked at the note still crumpled in her hand and angrily scribbled a response to it and shoved it at Pansy when Trimstra's back was turned toward the board.

Why should I meet you? So you can hex the hair off me? Hermione had asked.

Seconds later, the letter was shoved back at Hermione.

"Because I will spread rumors about you crushing on Draco if you don't."

"No one would believe you." Hermione replied. "Everyone knows I'd sooner kill myself than fall for someone so pathetic and hypocritical."

"All it takes is just one tiny seed of doubt. I heard you watched Draco sleep nearly the entire train ride on the Hogwarts Express. What were you thinking about?"

Hermione hadn't watched him sleep! She had glared at him the entire way, angry that as a prefect, he was getting away with not listening to anything. He just sat there, snoozing with his head on Pansy's chest as Pansy listened aptly to the things being spewed out by Head Boy.

And then Pansy's words registered in Hermione's mind. "You heard? You were there, so you should know I wasn't watching him at all."

"Of course I was there! Don't change the subject. You're in love with Draco!"

"Your body language suggests you weren't really in the Prefect cabin," Hermione wrote, feeling rather smug. Pansy could deny it all she wanted, but for some reason, it was like Pansy hadn't actually been there despite how Hermione could vouch to have seen the girl.

"Fine, but if you want to know, you'll show up in the room after class. Come alone and don't be late or else!"

And thus continued Hermione's worst day ever. After class, Pansy and the Slytherin girls packed up and left the room. Hermione debated following Pansy. She was curious, but she doubted whether Pansy would tell why she didn't recall what happened in the Prefect cabin.

Of course, if she didn't go Pansy would spread rumors about Hermione that simply were not true. Hermione had rumors spread about her before, so it wouldn't be a new thing.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione turned to the owner of the voice, startled that anyone was still left in the room. Even Professor Trimstra was gone. "Huh?" she asked, and saw the green tie and slicked back black hair. She nearly recoiled in revulsion, but forced herself to put on a smile—albeit a strained one. His face was okay to look at, if she didn't take notice of his hair slathered in what had to be a mixture of Crisco and corn oil.

"I asked if you were alright? You were staring at the blackboard like you wanted to bust it up." He sounded fairly polite for a Slytherin. Polite in a sincere way, not like the transfer, who Hermione knew was hiding a dangerous evil inside her.

"I am fine," Hermione said and gathered her things in her bag, preparing to storm away from this Slytherin who for no reason at all seemed concerned for the mudblood.

"Well, that's good," he smiled. "I'm Kyle Marcus…"

"I know who you are," she told him. "You sat by me all class!"

"Um, I'm sorry if I did something to you in a past life," he said as she walked toward the door. She turned to look at him in confusion and saw a hurt expression on his features. "I mean, not all of us are like Malfoy, you know. My mum was a muggle-born like you; real talented witch she was…"

Hermione felt as if her world had been abruptly shaken. A Slytherin with a mudblood mother? But all Slytherins were pureblooded, muggle-hating creeps! She knew she was looking at Kyle in surprise, but she couldn't help it. "What do you mean 'was'?" she asked before shaking herself mentally, "Never mind. I have to get going." She turned and slipped out the door.

She neared the third floor, wondering what she was doing. She didn't really care about rumors! But her feet took her to stand in front of a massive tapestry of a giant dragon encased in an iceberg with Merlin in front of it holding a knotted staff. It was one of the few things in the castle that didn't seem to have a life of its own. She peered at the base of the wall below the tapestry but there was no sign of a door.

She pulled the tapestry away from the wall and peered behind it. Sure enough, there was a small, square door three feet off the ground. She sidled along the wall, wondering why she would willingly go alone to such a meeting. It had to be a trap! She should've gotten Harry and Ron and they could've come under the invisibility cloak. But her body wouldn't turn around and go back now. Her pride had taken over—she had to do this alone… She couldn't explain to herself the logic behind the decision.

The door had no knob. There was nothing except a wood burned image of a rose inside a circle. She brushed a hand along the image, only barely able to make it out from the light shining up from by her feet. It was rather uncomfortable to have the stupid tapestry weighing her against the wall, and the door wasn't one that appeared could be opened without a spell… She took her hand away from the door and turned to leave, but then the door burned away, like a piece of parchment though the fire felt like water on her skin, leaving a hole in the wall and a brightly lit room behind the door.

She poked her head in the room nervously. No one was present, but the room had puffy chairs and couches and a big hearth. The chairs and couches were all green and lining the walls instead of portraits were bookshelves straight up to the ceiling. There were a few coffee tables and arm tables near the furniture.

She clamored into the room to investigate, even though she knew better than to do it. Why was she doing this alone? She set her bag by the door and took her wand out—just in case. But no one was present, were they? No, they weren't… She giddily and nervously went to examine the bookshelves, soon finding herself rather astounded to see titles like "Black Magic and Its Theories" by Urma Grievewasle and "101 Spells Best Against Enemies" by Henry Trainwillow.

Her fingers found the spine of the book, "The Ice Prince" by D.I. Malfoy. She pulled it off the shelf, staring wonderingly at the author's name. Was it an ancestor of Draco? She opened the book to the first page and ten minutes later realized she was sitting on the floor with her arms around her knees and had her nose glued to a book that just might be working dark magic on her without her even knowing it.

But her curiosity had been too much for her. The title wasn't like the others surrounding it, and the book itself appeared to have seen far less use than the others. That was hardly considering the fact that it was written by a Malfoy of all the families that it could've been written by.

And it was a marvelous working of words, too. Hermione had never read anything like it. The words almost danced across the page as if she saw the characters playing out the story in a movie. The story told of a time before England had banished the demons, except in the book, they didn't like the word 'demon'. Hermione got the feeling the word 'demon' was as hateful a word to these creatures as 'mudblood' was to Ron. Instead, they called themselves Fairie-Dragons and they ruled the magical world in England.

They were dragons in human form, though they could take on their dragon form any time they chose. She had just barely gotten to the part where the story talked about humans and their never ending quest to kill dragons and how knights were a nuisance to the Fairie-Dragons when the book was snatched from her hands and put back in its place on the shelf.

"Hey! I was reading that!" she yelped, looking up at the perpetrator. It was Pansy, and the girl was frowning. She also had an adorable little blond haired girl on her hip, though Hermione had no clue where the child had come from. The only person she could think of who had those same iceberg colored eyes and blond hair was Draco Malfoy, so she asked, "What happened to Malfoy?!" she nearly laughed, but at the cold look on Pansy's face decided against it.

Pansy had come alone except for the child, Hermione noticed as she stood up.

"I don't care if you were reading it, and Shiva isn't Draco!" Pansy snapped. She shifted closer to Hermione. "Take her, Granger." Pansy insisted.

The child started crying as Hermione, very stunned, simply did what she was told and eased the child off Pansy's hip and onto her own. Shiva reached out to Pansy as she cried, "Pan-pan, no! Don't leave Shiva!"

"You're to stay in here with her until I get back," Pansy said seriously. "Draco and Blaise are busy talking to the Quidditch team, and Chavi is holed up in the library with Madam Pince so there is no one left who can be trusted to take care of Shiva except me but I can't because I have to go see Madam Pomfrey. That's why I called you here; you're a Gryffindor, so you'll guilt yourself to death if anything happens to her."

Hermione glanced at the crying little girl and then at Pansy. "What's wrong with you?" Hermione found herself asking. She didn't doubt what Pansy said about her guilting herself if the girl got hurt, but she wondered why not any other Gryffindor if she just needed someone who would guilt themselves…

"If you must know, I fell getting off the train yesterday and I think I might've broken a finger or two." She pulled back her sleeve of the arm she'd used to steady the girl on her hip. Indeed the fingers were swollen and looked very painful. "I thought it was just a little pain that would go away by morning," she said, "but it didn't."

"Why me?" Hermione asked as Pansy turned to leave. At first, she thought she wouldn't get an answer.

Then Pansy said, "Because you're against everything the Dark stands for, and you've a good head on your shoulders, mudblood or not." Hermione thought that was probably the best compliment she'd ever receive from a Slytherin and was very shocked to receive it from Pansy of all people. It was almost as amazing as if it'd come out of Draco Malfoy's mouth himself. "Just don't leave here until I get back. I don't think I'll be too long."

"Yeah, well, I better not miss lunch," Hermione said, trying to remove herself from her state of shock. Pansy left and Hermione was alone with the little girl who was crying as if she was all alone in the world. Hermione felt bad for the little girl so she hugged her and moved to one of the poufy green couches and sat down on it, the girl in her lap.

She took a good look at the girl. She really did look a lot like Draco Malfoy, and she wore an obviously expensive silk ball gown, dark green with embroidered silver snakes on it. The dress was wrinkled, but that was to be expected for a little child. Hermione wondered if this was a trap, but then dismissed the idea almost immediately.

She smiled at the girl, "Its okay, you don't have to cry."

"But Pan-pan left me a… alone and I'm scared when I have to be alone!" she cried.

"She didn't leave you alone," Hermione reasoned, "I'm here too."

"I don't know you! Mummy said never talk to strangers!" She buried her face in Hermione's shoulder, wrapping her little arms around Hermione's neck as if hanging on for dear life.

The child really was afraid, Hermione realized. She wrapped her arms around the little girl and hugged her. "Shh," she said, hoping to calm the wailing child down, "Sweet rain of sorrow, falling on no one, his love is left behind by life's relentless passing…" she said, thinking that maybe if she sang a bit, she might get the girl to calm when 'shushing' didn't work. It worked, even though Hermione knew she wasn't the greatest singer by far. She'd been told once that her voice was like the screeching of a dying rabbit mixed with the moans of a birthing mother elephant—not very good.

She sang the whole song through anyway and by the time she finished, the girl wasn't clinging to her hard enough to make her head pop off. She sat, rubbing her eyes, sniffling a little bit. Hermione took out a kerchief, glad she kept an arsenal of them, and wiped the girl's eyes.

"There, now, is that a bit better?" Hermione asked. The child smiled a watery little smile and nodded. "My name is Hermione. What's yours?" She knew it was Shiva, since Pansy already called her that but she figured the girl might want to introduce herself.

"My name is Shiva. You don't sing as good as Dee-dee, you know." Shiva said honestly. "Dee-dee sings lots better."

"Who is Dee-dee?" Hermione asked, hardly offended by the words of a little child when her own father begged her not to sing. Hermione was good at academics; singing was not a basis for intelligence, therefore knowing how to sing wasn't important to her. Besides that, music was a gift and could not be learned from a book; Hermione tended to avoid anything that couldn't be learned from a book.

"Dee-dee is my big brother. He goes to school here." She climbed down off Hermione's lap and stood on the ground, peering about the room as if wondering which corner to investigate for toys first.

"So how come you're here?" Hermione asked.

"Dee-dee said Mummy and daddy are in France and so he has to take care of me 'till they come back. Hey," the child turned to Hermione with a glint in her eyes and lowered her voice conspiratorially, "do you want to build a fort? I bet there're blankets in that chest over there," she pointed at an oddly shaped table beside one of the couches.

Hermione grinned at the child. The girl reminded her so much of herself at a young age. When Hermione was young, she didn't have dolls or tea parties. Her fifth birthday party was supposed to be a cute little tea party with four other girls, but Hermione convinced the girls to go on a "Backyard Hunting Expedition" with her. They hunted for monsters, sloshing through the wet and muddy back yard in their new party dresses, tormenting birds with stones and pretending sticks were swords (and Hermione's mother's new pots and pans became armor and shields and were put to good use that day). It was refreshing to watch it in this little girl.

Of course, if Hermione was thinking properly, she would realize that a child like her in Hogwarts wasn't a good thing. Her mind ignored that fact. Instead she and the child dove into the chest and came up with plenty of couch throws in various colors. Hermione didn't bother using her wand to move the couches. There was something satisfying about moving them herself even if they were heavy. She managed to maneuver the couches and chairs into place and she and Shiva used the couch and chair throws to build their fort.

They had just finished and Shiva had just crawled inside when someone made their presence known. "You're really good with children, Miss Granger," Hermione turned quickly and instantly her wand was out of her sleeve where she kept it and in her hand, aimed at the voice. Kyle Marcus held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he apologized. He smiled, and Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion. How long had he been standing there?

She decided to ask. "How long have you been here?"

"Maybe twenty minutes. Draco sent me to check up on his sister and make sure she wasn't giving Pansy a hard time." Hermione was stunned. 'Dee-dee' was Draco? Impossible! One, Dee-dee was a far cry from Draco the way the child went on and on about her brother being the best, nicest, coolest person in the whole world. Two, the names "Dee-dee" and "Draco" were nothing alike, so it was impossible to mistake the names.

But Shiva really did look a lot like Draco…

Hermione didn't know what to say. Maybe Kyle understood that, because he smiled secretively at her and said, "I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, so I won't let Draco know you're baby sitting his sister if you don't…"

Hermione liked that idea. She smiled gratefully at Kyle. Maybe there was a Slytherin or two that was decent after all! "Thanks, I really appreciate it," Hermione said. "Who knows what he'd do if he knew a mudblood," she spat the word, "was contaminating his family…"

"You're not a mudblood," Kyle told her sternly. "If anyone is the mudblood, it's… oh, sorry," his cheeks reddened a little, "I shouldn't say anything."

"What were you going to say?" Hermione asked. She really was too curious for her own good sometimes and she knew it.

"Oh… well, it's just that… well, I suppose you haven't heard about it…" he hesitated before glancing at the fort where Shiva was. Hermione guessed he didn't want the little girl to know, so she moved closer—though not too close of course—and he whispered, "…about Draco?"

"I haven't heard anything…" Hermione admitted.

"Well, it's just hearsay, so far, but…" Hermione glared at him to continue and he did. "Draco's family adopted him from a muggle-born orphanage."

Hermione's eyes went wide at the word 'adopted'. "What's a muggle-born orphanage?"

"It's one of those orphanages where muggle-borns go when their parents can't cope with magical children." Kyle told her. "But like I said… it hasn't been proven. I mean, Draco and Lucius Malfoy have the same hair color, but I've met both Draco's parents and neither of them have the same eye color as Draco. Their eyes are both sky blue, and Draco's is more like gray ice. But rumor has it that Miss Melody and Draco had a kid, and are hiding the fact by pretending Draco's parents are the parents of Shiva. Not even Shiva is aware of the truth."

"Oh wow," Hermione's ears practically buzzed with the new information. She heard Shiva calling her to come play in the fort and said, "Just a second, honey," and looked back at Kyle, "Are you really not going to tell Malfoy?"

Kyle smiled a bit shyly, "Hey, I might look big and gruff and Slytheriny, but I've always had a crush on you." Hermione's face flushed red at the boy's admission. "I just wish I had been sorted into a different house. I don't make a very good Slytherin, and if I had… maybe I might have had a chance with you." His face was beet red by the time he turned and crawled out the small hole of a door.

Hermione gulped slightly and went to join Shiva in the fort. "Who were you talking to?" Shiva asked.

"A friend of your brother's, I think," Hermione said.

"Oh! So you were talking to Blaisey?" Shiva asked, beaming at Hermione.

"No, a different friend," Hermione said.

"But Dee-dee doesn't have any other boyfriends," Shiva said in confusion. "He hates Crabby and Boils, and doesn't talk to other boys."

"Really?" Hermione giggled at the child's obvious nicknames for Crabbe and Goyle. "Why doesn't he like Crabbe and Goyle?"

"I don't know. Dee-dee said the only reason Crabby and Boils are around is 'cause daddy pays them to be Dee-dee's bodyguards. But Dee-dee told me never trust Crabby and Boils 'cause their family is mercenaries and works for whoever pays highest." Shiva plucked at her shoes, looking very bored.

Hermione hoped talking would keep Shiva efficiently occupied because Hermione was out of ideas. She knew it was already well past lunch time, and Shiva's stomach was growling, but Pansy did say not to leave the room. Hermione decided if Pansy didn't show up by the time lunch was over, Hermione would take Shiva down to the kitchens during Charms. She could afford to miss one class unlike Ron or Harry who needed every minute they could get.

"Crabbe and Goyle are mercenaries?" Hermione asked. "What does Malfoy…I mean, Draco need to be protected from?"

"I don't know," Shiva shrugged. "I think Dee-dee should be protected from daddy."

If there was one thing Hermione loved, it was the blunt honesty of children, even though that could be a dangerous thing. "Why should he be protected from your dad?"

"'Cause daddy is mean to Dee-dee. Dee-dee has to be perfect, you know. When I was little," it was amusing to imagine such a small child saying 'when I was little', "daddy told Dee-dee he was the worst, most ungrateful boy ever to be in our family and he locked Dee-dee up in his room for a long time. It felt like forever before I got to see Dee-dee again."

Hermione's eyes were so wide, she wondered if they'd pop out. "He locked Draco in his room?" That was awful, and coming from Shiva, it wasn't as if Hermione could say it was a lie… But what if this was all a trap and Shiva wasn't really a child… no, there was an air of innocence about her that couldn't be faked. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know why daddy does it, but it isn't as bad as when Dee-dee snuck out of the house. Dee-dee has big scars on his back 'cause daddy kept hitting him with a willow branch 'cause of that. That's what Dee-dee told me daddy would do to me if I went out of the house without permission."

Hermione couldn't help but gasp in surprise. "Draco Malfoy was whipped with a willow branch?" she asked in horror.

"Hey, 'Mione," Shiva looked up at Hermione with wide iceberg eyes, "when is mummy coming back from France? I want my mummy, and I know Dee-dee wants her to come home too. She's already been gone since Dee-dee came home practically. Me and Dee-dee had to go stay with strangers all summer long, and scary people came for Dee-dee, and I was alone, and mummy is coming back, right?"

Hermione thought of Narcissus Malfoy in St. Mungo's, barely clinging to life in a coma with nearly no hope of waking. Hermione had seen Narcissus herself and except for a large bandage on Narcissus's head, she looked like she was simply sleeping though her insides were said to be in knots. "I'm certain she is," Hermione said, wondering if this really was Draco's kid.

"I'm glad." Shiva said. "I miss mummy. I always sleep by mummy if Dee-dee's at school."

"Where do you sleep if he's home?" Hermione asked.

She felt dumb when she got her answer. "By Dee-dee. 'Mione, I'm hungry. When is Pan-pan coming back?"

Hermione sighed. The end-of-lunch bell had already rang a good half-hour ago, she just didn't want to admit it. She would have to take a chance. If Pansy hadn't come back by now, it was likely she wouldn't be back by the time Hermione could get Shiva down to the kitchens and get back. She crawled out of the fort.

"Come on then. We'll see what we can get into your…" she trailed off as she looked up and saw none other than Draco Malfoy standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face rather than his usual trademark scowl or smirk. "Malfoy," she squeaked a bit nervously as the boy tapped a dark brown wand with his forefinger.

"Granger," he said and he glared at her. "What are you doing in here?" His tone felt accusing. She stood up and Shiva scrambled out of the fort and launched herself at Draco. He winced visibly as she hugged his left leg and then bent down, peeling her away from his leg and lifting her up to hold her on his hip.

"Pan-pan had to go somewhere, so 'Mione helped me build a fort!" Shiva said, hugging Draco. "I'm so happy to see you, Dee-dee! I was all alone for a while, but then 'Mione sang to me and everything! 'Mione's really nice. You should marry her."

Hermione choked on air and Draco looked like he'd just taken a bite of a sour lemon. "Marry – Granger – ?" Draco could hardly finish, but the look on his face said everything. "Good god, no way!"

"But she's really nice," Shiva pouted, "even if she can't sing good, she's nice to me and she's a girl, so I don't see where the problem is. You can marry her!"

Hermione tried to force the blush away, glad that none of his Slytherin cronies were present—especially Pansy who was already threatening to spread rumors of Hermione's false crush on Draco. "Hon, the problem," Hermione explained to Shiva, "is that Malf—er, your brother and I don't get along well."

"Oh. Well, why not?" Shiva asked. "Is it bedroom problems? 'Cause that's why daddy said his marriage isn't working." Hermione never knew how many colors of red there were in the spectrum until now. "I don't know what kind of bedroom problems you can have though. Maybe daddy just needs a new mattress, 'cause mummy doesn't snore or anything."

Hermione was surprised to find Draco's cheeks were tinged pink as well. "Uh, Shiva," he said, "the thing is… the thing is… well, you see, the problem is…" He seemed unable to say 'she's a mudblood' for some reason, though Hermione knew that was what he wanted to say.

She helped him out, "Shiva, the problem between us is that Draco doesn't like headstrong, intelligent women who are smarter than him." Draco glared at her but Hermione hardly feared him now that he was cowed by a little girl's unknowingly acute questions.

"Oh, so you're smart, but that doesn't make sense 'cause Dee-dee said he only likes girls who are smart as him."

"But I'm smarter," Hermione replied. "Draco and I, we just aren't at the same level." She held out her hands, one higher than the other. "I'm up here, and Draco's down here. He simply cannot compete with me." Hermione smirked at Draco as Shiva looked like she understood. "Anyway, I best be off; I'd hate to fall to Draco's level of intelligence by missing class…" She marched to the door, picking up her bag, and scrambled out from behind the tapestry.

The school year was really looking up. In her head, she whistled a little tune, Draco Malfoy is a muggle-born, Draco Malfoy is a muggle-born. She had to force the thoughts out of her head that Draco Malfoy was abused by his father. She hurried to Charms. Flitwick would undoubtedly not care much that she'd been late. She was his best student.

She entered class and her fellow Gryffindors looked at her in surprise. She was a bit red-faced from running and her hair was mussed more than usual, but her lateness was more surprising than her appearance.

"Miss Granger, I really am disappointed that a prefect like you would be late to class," Professor Flitwick squeaked.

"Sorry, Professor," Hermione said, sad to have disappointed him but knowing it wasn't her fault and also knowing it wasn't like she could say anything about it.

"Well, it is the first day of classes, so I'll take it easy on you…" He smiled good-naturedly and said, "Take a seat, Miss Granger. We're reviewing the summer homework assignment."

She quickly took a seat next to Harry who had managed to save her one and opened her bag. Only when she was rummaging through the bag did she realize she didn't have her wand. She must have set it down in the fort or something and forgotten about it! That was bad…

Harry set a piece of paper on her desk when Flitwick's back was turned. Hermione opened it under the desk and read it.

"Draco Malfoy is in our Divination class and he made a bet with his friends that he could get anyone in the whole school to date him. Watch out for him, Hermione, because they gave him until the first Hogsmeade visit to get you to go with him to Hogsmeade. If you want, I'll beat him up." Harry wrote. Ron scribbled under Harry's writing, "I'll hex him for you!" and drew a picture (a very bad picture) of two people and one of them was flying through the air as though hexed.

Hermione giggled but then covered it up with a cough so Flitwick wouldn't think she was laughing at him. She took out her self-inking quill and scribbled back, "As great as it sounds to have you guys beat him up, I think we should try a new approach. I have a plan. Are you two willing to help me?" On-the-spot planning came easily for Hermione, especially when her two best friends were virtually without a plan in life and relied on guts and primal instincts to get them through. She passed the note back to Harry, a grin stuck on her face as she remembered what Kyle had said. Rumor had it in Slytherin House that Malfoy was a muggle-born… which made Malfoy a hypocrite and a liar.

It didn't take much to realize that Kyle was telling the truth when he said he liked her. Kyle was like a Gryffindor, she'd noticed. When talking about things like feelings, he blushed like he was embarrassed. It really was too bad Kyle was in Slytherin, but really, even hats had to make mistakes sometimes, right?

"I'm in! What do I have to do?" Ron practically fell out of his seat trying to scribble that on the note. Harry grinned and wrote, "Of course, Hermione. You have our full support."

She beamed happily at them. Vivi and Éclair would admittedly probably not wish to help her out with this sort of thing. They would do more of the research end maybe, but she could always rely on Harry and Ron for action. Draco Malfoy wouldn't know what hit him. Yes, the year was already going much better than it was that morning.

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