As soon as Hermione stepped into the Transfiguration classroom, she felt as if she'd stepped back in time; McGonagall's chair was exactly where it had always been, the desks were in the same spots, even the blackboard looked as if it hadn't moved. The room still smelled like parchment-glue and grass, and the tangible level of energy in the air from all the expended magic seemed to be unchanged. Feeling as if she was an innocent first-year again, her mind unclouded with thoughts of Voldemort and her shoulders free from crushing responsibility, Hermione almost floated over to a desk to sit beside Draco.

However, upon closer inspection, Hermione's illusion dissolved. She could see that certain sections of mortar were lighter colours, and there were obvious places where offensive and defensive charms had soaked into the stones, discolouring them. The Battle of Hogwarts had obviously scarred this room. "Even that which seems so familiar turns out to be different," she sighed.

Draco pulled a large textbook out from his bag and turned to look at his desk-partner. "That sounds official," he said. "Oscar Wilde?"

"Hermione Granger." She smiled. "Just because someone uses big words doesn't always mean that they're quoting some dead genius."

Draco was about to reply when the door slammed open and Minerva McGonagall burst through the doors. "I apologize for being late, class," she said tersely, rounding on her students at the front of the room. "There's a pair of brothers in fourth year that have uncannily similar personalities to the Weasley twins– they were quite the handful this morning."

Most of the class grinned. "What?" Seamus asked, looking at McGonagall. "They flooded the castle on the first day of school?"

McGonagall allowed herself a small, genuine smile as her pupils laughed. "Their pranks aren't quite that elaborate yet, Mister Finnegan," she said. "But I wouldn't put it past them."

Just as McGonagall finished her comment, a shabbily-dressed and obviously still half-asleep Dean burst into the classroom. "Sorry Professor!" he hurriedly exclaimed, running his hand through his un-brushed hair. "I overslept, but I have a reason, and -"

"Don't let it happen again, Mister Thomas," the Scottish witch said firmly, pointing Dean over to a vacant seat beside Justin.

"Yes ma'am," Dean said obediently, staring fixatedly on the floor as he made his way over to the desk.

"Now then," McGonagall said excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Let's get you all started on your eighth year. "I know that the majority of you attended Hogwarts last year, although it's safe to say that our curriculum was significantly….altered during wartime."

Neville snorted and whispered something to Harry that made the bespectacled boy nod somberly.

"Will we have to learn some of the same stuff again?" a very concerned Lavender Brown asked from the back of the class. "I mean, I'm pretty sure that Charms last year was the same as it's been every year…."

McGonagall waved her wand, and the words "culminating project" appeared on her blackboard. "Does anyone know what a culminating project is? Mister Malfoy?"

Draco had obviously been staring off beyond McGonagall, and the witch had caught him not paying attention. "What?" he asked, disoriented. McGonagall pursed her lips and tilted her head towards the board. Wincing, Draco focused on the words written in bright white chalk. "Umm…a culminating project. Isn't that, like, an assignment that shows, like, all that you've learned?"

"Well said Mister Malfoy, even if you were more interested in examining the bricks behind me than actually listening to what I was saying." The Professor nodded sharply before starting her customary walk between the rows of desks. "Now, how many of you attended a muggle school prior to your enrollment at Hogwarts?"

Hermione raised her hand and watched as everyone – with the exception of Draco, of course – raised their hands. "Excellent," McGonagall continued, now half-way down the first row. "So, can any of you tell me what the letters 'TA' stand for in a muggle academic context?"

There was a hesitant silence until Harry raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"Well, um, TA stands for – well, it used to stand for – umm….teacher's assistant?"

Hermione smiled to herself. Harry still hated speaking in public, even if it was just to a teacher or a relatively close group of friends. McGonagall had obviously noted the same thing, and she laughed softly as she nodded. "Yes, you're correct Mister Potter. Two points to Gryffindor for an uncannily good memory."

A blush rushed up into Harry's cheeks and he quickly looked down at his parchment, feverishly pretending to take notes. McGonagall smiled and continued her patrol of the aisles. "As some of the curriculum is similar this year, we've decided to apply the concept of "TA"s to Hogwarts classes. You will be creating lesson plans, working alongside your teacher-mentor, and eventually teaching several solo classes."

An excited murmur ran through the class as the thirteen students processed the implications of McGonagall's words. "Teachers' Assistants? This is brilliant!" Hermione whispered to Draco. "That will look stunning on an application to university!"

Draco snorted rather loudly. "As if any university would deny your application."

Hermione frowned and flicked Draco's head lightly. "Don't say that," she whispered. "I might decide to take it as a challenge."

Smiling, Draco smoothed down the hair that Hermione had ruffled up before turning to face a waiting Professor.

"Are you all quite finished gossiping?" McGonagall asked primly, walking back to the front of the class.

"Yes ma'am," Seamus and Dean said in unison.

McGonagall gave the two troublemakers one of her famous steely glares. "Don't think that just because you're legally adults that I'll let you get away with murder this year boys," she warned, waving her pointer finger. "I will tolerate no monkey business."

Seamus nodded. "Of course Professor. No monkey business."

"Do orangutans count as moneys?" Dean asked Seamus, grinning broadly.

It was obvious that McGonagall was trying very hard to stay upset with her former cubs. "No tomfoolery boys," she said sternly. "That's my final word on the subject."

Padma Patil's hand shot up into the air. "So, Professor, what subjects are you offering TA positions in?" She was obviously the only student who had thought to focus on the logistics and details of the TA program.

"Thank you Miss Patil – each of you will have to write an application letter to the teacher that you wish to work under." McGonagall's chalk was magically copying her words onto the board as the witch continued. "There will be a maximum of two students per subject, however other than that there are no restrictions – you may apply for any subject that you feel passionate about."

"Calm down Granger – you look like you're about to explode."

Draco's whispered comment brought Hermione back into reality, where she realized that she was sitting up in her seat, practically bouncing into the aisle. "Sorry!" she said quickly, looking down at her desk.

"Don't apologize," Draco said, flicking the side of Hermione's head, mimicking the witch's earlier actions towards him. "I was just bringing you out of your bubble."

Hermione turned to face Draco and saw that he was smiling rather sadly, his grey eyes drawing her in and his hand inches away from hers on the desk. Zeroing in immediately on their hands, Hermione's pulse went through the roof. Do I take his hand? Do I leave it? What?! Bloody hell, why do I even care?

Resolving her dilemma by picking up her quill and turning away from the Slytherin, Hermione tried to focus in on McGonagall again.

"….because only two students can be selected for each subject, you see. If you provide us with a priority list and you aren't selected for your first-choice subject, then we can select your second- or third-priority choice."

Hermione heard McGonagall's voice, but the words seemed to pass in one ear and out through the other. Her mind just kept flashing images of Draco's eyes before her, yet her neck refused to turn to see the real-life boy sitting beside her. Running wild, her imagination pictured those eyes coming closer and closer to her until she was swimming in pools of cool, grey water, a warm hand wrapped around hers.

"And Miss Granger," McGonagall called out, bursting Hermione's daydreams, "I expect this letter to be a letter. Not an essay, not a miniature novel. At most, a foot of parchment."

Hermione nodded. "Yes Professor," she said, duly noting the requirement, knowing from past experience that she could go six inches over without being penalized.

Nodding, McGonagall continued. "I'll expect your applications over the next few days – Friday morning at the latest. I urge you to put genuine thought into these letters and your subject of choice, children – this TA position could have a severe impact on your future."

Silence filled the classroom as everyone took on a more somber attitude. This is a year that's entirely too used to being serious, Hermione thought sadly. Hopefully this year we can counteract those instincts.

"Before next class I'd like you all to read over chapters one and two of your transfiguration textbook, and take notes on pages 13-56. Class dismissed."

Energy surging back into the room, the thirteen students immediately started talking and heading out into the hallway. Hermione chose not to walk over to Harry, Neville, and Luna; instead, she turned to face Draco. "We have charms, yes?" she said, watching the blonde pack up his belongings.

"Uh, yeah, I think so," Draco said, not meeting Hermione's gaze. "You go ahead. I'll meet you there."

Suspicion flooded Hermione's consciousness, but she smiled and nodded. Acting as if she was leaving the classroom and heading down the hall, Hermione felt Draco's eyes watching her. Just as she crossed the threshold, she snuck behind the classroom door and waited. It's not that you don't trust him, Hermione assured herself. You're just worried for him, that's all….

"Professor," Draco's voice made Hermione snap to attention. "I couldn't help but notice that certain charms I placed on my dorm seemed to wear off extremely rapidly."

"Oh?" McGonagall said, her voice sounding concerned. "What charms were you attempting to cast?"

"Silencing charms," Draco said smoothly. "I have rather graphic nightmares, and didn't think that the others needed to be woken at night."

Hermione's heart lurched. He has nightmares too? she thought. He doesn't deserve that….

"Ah, I know what your issue is," McGonagall said, sounding satisfied. "Your rooms are in Unity Tower."

Silence.

"Erm, yes Professor, they are." Draco was confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"The tower is charmed to prevent dividing charms from being cast – I'm assuming that the Tower viewed your silencing charms as something that could potentially separate or isolate you from the rest of the group, preventing true unity."

"Of course," Draco said dryly. "The tower is trying to protect my social life."

"It's far more important than that, Mister Malfoy," McGonagall said sternly. "A desire for isolation is one of the common side-effects of post-traumatic stress disorder. It's trying to prevent you from sinking into depression, or from potentially hurting yourself."

Malfoy paused before asking another question; "So, if a student moved past simple isolation and actually attempted to hurt themselves, what would the Tower do?"

"Well, the Tower only has a certain amount of magic Mister Malfoy." McGonagall was beginning to sound like she was following a lesson plan. "It will do its best to stop you from harming yourself, but it's not as if it could grow arms and pull your wand away from you. And, as you know, Hogwarts is warded with anti-suicide spells. Not that we're particularly worried about any students attempting to kill themselves – Hogwarts is such a close-knit, supportive community, and we've never had a student attempt to take their life before."

"Of course."

At this point, it felt like a light bulb went off above the Professor's head. "Why such morbid questions, Mister Malfoy? Should I be concerned about you?"

Draco's voice seemed hollow and insincere. "I was just wondering, Professor; the fact that Unity Tower has any magic is news to me, I was inquiring after the extent of its abilities."

"I see." McGonagall didn't seem convinced, and Hermione didn't believe a single word that had just come out of Draco's mouth. "Well Mister Malfoy, should you have continued issues with your inability to sleep soundly through the night, I would recommend seeing Professor Slughorn for a few vials of Dreamless Sleep. Use it sparingly and with caution, however –it's highly addictive."

Draco must have nodded, saying "Of course. Thank you Professor."

"Although I recognize that I'm not your past Head of House, Draco, please don't hesitate to confide in me or consult with me for anything – my door is always open."

"Thank you."

He turned abruptly on his heels and walked quickly out from the room, Hermione following him as fast as she could manage. "Draco!" she hissed. Getting no response, she grabbed his forearm. "Draco!"

"What?" Draco snapped, his eyes blazing with a cool fire.

Unfazed, Hermione hissed "What was that all about? You sounded like…like…a suicidal nutcase!"

His eyes narrowed. "You were eavesdropping, Granger? That's low, even for you."

Feeling like she'd just been punched in the stomach, Hermione straightened up and grew cold. "Yes. I was listening. But just because I'm worried about you. And, apparently, rightly so! Now McGonagall is going to get the portraits to monitor you!"

Still angry, Draco hissed "…monitor me? What?"

"Yes, you numbskull, monitor you!" Hermione checked over her shoulder before continuing. "She'll be keeping tabs on all of us this year, watching for depression, addictions, or odd behaviours – technically, we are war veterans. You just sent up, like, a million red flags with your comments there!"

Draco's anger was still tangible. "How do you know all this Granger?" he said scathingly. "Are you omniscient now as well as being a genius?"

Hermione suddenly grew quiet, her thoughts snapping back to her sixth year at Hogwarts.

Blood.

Tears.

"I'm here to help, Harry!"

"GO AWAY!"

"I don't think it's my place to say," Hermione said quietly looking down at the ground. "It's not my story to share. But…just know that she'll be watching you, ok?"

Leaving a somewhat stunned and certainly confused Draco standing in the hallway, Hermione stalked past him and headed for the charms room. When she arrived, she saw an empty seat next to Harry and sat down, slamming her books and bag on the table. Used to loud noises and completely at ease in the Hogwarts environment, Harry didn't so much as flinch. "Upset?" he asked kindly, watching Hermione throw quills, ink, and parchment out of her bag.

"No," Hermione said firmly, throwing her book bag down to the ground with a loud crash. "Why would you think that?"

"Just a hunch," he said, righting Hermione's inkwell and checking to see if the quill nib had been broken. "Were you talking to McGonagall?"

"No," she said again, sitting down and furiously tapping her fingers.

"Hmm. Where's Draco, did you lose him on your way down?"

Hermione dug her nails into the soft wood of the desk. "I don't want to talk about it," she said tersely.

"Ah, the Ferret got to you," Harry said, sighing. "Some of the blokes were wondering how long it'd take until you couldn't stand him anymore."

"It's not that I can't stand him, I just can't read him!" Hermione exclaimed. "One minute he's completely fine, the next he just…blows up! It's ridiculous! He was completely fine – maybe a bit morbid, but just curious, or whatever - and then McGonagall mentioned something about 'not being his Head of House', and he just flipped!"

Harry was listening intently, and his eyes grew wide. Leaning towards Hermione, Harry said softly "Did you know that Snape was Malfoy's godfather?"

Hermione spun to face Harry. "What?" she hissed.

Nodding, Harry continued. "Yeah, Draco is Snape's godson. I went to the funeral – you know that, you're the one who suggested that I go – and Draco was sitting in the family section of the church. I talked to some people afterwards who told me that Draco actually spent most of his time over at Snape's house in Spinner's End. That is, until sixth year. Then he had to stay home with his dad for some reason that I couldn't quite figure out…."

Hermione was stunned. "But…he….what?"

"I know, right? It's weird. Does that explain his odd behavior?"

"No!" she insisted, her mind still a bit fuzzy after Harry had dropped that information-bomb on her. "He's so…so….different! I don't know what to do with him, Harry. I'd like to help him, but I don't know how.

Covering her mouth, Hermione's eyes went wide. Did I just blurt that out to Harry? Oh Merlin, he's going to think that I'm a prize idiot…

Harry had a thoughtful expression on his face. "I think you should make Draco Malfoy your project," he said, grinning.

"….what?" Hermione was skeptical, raising one eyebrow and looking down at her friend.

Harry, however, was unfazed. "We all have this TA project which'll be easy as one-two-three for you, so you should create your own side-project; getting to know and 'figuring out' Draco Malfoy."

Hermione just stared at her friend. "Draco is a person," she said slowly, "not some specimen on a slide under a microscope."

"Well then don't think of it as a project, then – more of an….intervention."

Not amused, Hermione crossed her arms.

Harry refused to back off. "You know it'd be fun, Hermione. You could even write an essay at the end of the course, if you'd like!'

"Oh? What course is that?" Hermione snapped, picking up her quill and twirling it nervously in her fingers.

"Draco Malfoy 101, of course!" Harry said excitedly.

Hermione heard the door open and watched out of the corner of her eye as Draco sat down next to a silent Michael Corner. Malfoy's eyes looked red, and it looked as if he still hadn't unclenched his fists. She sighed. What am I going to do with you?

A/N: I got this chapter finished sooner than expected, haha, hopefully you liked it! I'm trying something new here; I'm following a brilliant story called "Gray Skye Mourning" by KneazleGriff, and she tells her readers at the end of each chapter when approximately the next chapter is going to come out. (Check out KneazleGriff's work, if you have the chance - I love it!)

So, I'd like to say that you can expect Chapter Six by Tuesday night (September 25th). I'm going to try and update every Tuesday and Friday, but I'll let you know if my plans change!

Thank you again for your lovely reviews! I seriously would print them off and frame them if I didn't think that my parents would probably find that a bit weird, haha. Please keep reading! ~sneakyslytherin