Disclaimer: It's all Rowling's and I'm not making any money off it.

Chapter 18

The Importance of Teamwork

1st October, 1998

Slughorn had chosen to opt out of teaching another year at Hogwarts. Their new Potions Professor had also been a Slytherin during his Hogwarts years (Hermione was beginning to see a pattern here). He was a rather good professor, though Hermione couldn't vouch for him as a human being. Still, he seemed okay. He was fair, he didn't openly value his house more than the others, and he didn't have the new tendency that was coming into fashion; that is, he didn't fawn over her the way some people did.

A major flaw in Professor Bilmerk's character, though, was his substantial affection drama. Also for working in pairs, which he called "teamwork." "Good teamwork," he would say, "is the foundation of a good society. I am here to teach you Potions, and I will do that as I deem fit. But beyond that, what we – the school and I – would like to stress during this difficult year is the importance of trust." His nostrils would flare at this point. "The importance of teamwork.

"And that," he would add, waving his wand so the instructions for the day's potion appeared on the board, "is why you will once again be working in pairs today, and not with someone from your own house."

During her first Potions lesson, she had at first sighed and looked around the class, then sat down in a corner and started brewing her potion alone. Bilmerk eyed her and seemed a little put off, but he didn't comment on it. The thing was, she thought, that she was a war hero and she should have been able to find a partner. But with Harry and Ron gone, there was no one she felt even remotely comfortable around; or not enough, at least, to trust them with her Potions grade. She found, with some surprise, that she was too shy to stand up and ask someone (from Slytherin no less), and when nobody asked her, she stayed alone. Lavender and Parvati were constantly leaning over their respective partners to giggle and occasionally shot her appraising glances. Malfoy's partner had skipped Potions today for the third time in a row, preferring to face detention that night.

No one seemed too happy with the pairing up, and she for one saw no reason to find herself a partner who didn't want her.

Or a "team," as Bilmerk might put it.

And how could Parvati laugh so, she wondered, when her twin sister had been killed in the Battle? For that matter, how could Lavender laugh after having been on the receiving end of Greyback's wand? She had been there when Madam Pomfrey told her that they had misjudged the severity of the wounds. Lavender had lowered her face and cried when she'd realised what that meant. Today, her face was still scarred. A long, ridged scar running down her temple was the most obvious one, drawing attention away from her once-pretty face. And still Lavender laughed.

Was she really the only one who went around still carrying her sorrow? The only one who still constantly thought about the war, the only one who still had a hard time cracking a smile?

(Though she had to admit, when Ginny was around, she laughed easily enough.)

(Merlin, if only Ginny were in her year.)

"Miss Granger," Bilmerk said from behind her, startling her out of her thoughts. "I'd like to speak to you after class."

"Yes, sir," she said.

When he moved away, she realised she'd lost count of the number of stirs she'd already done while she was thinking. She cursed under her breath and looked around for reference. Goyle and his partner were two steps behind her, looking lost; Parvati, Lavender and their partners weren't even trying; and as for Dean and Seamus (whose bruises were mostly healed now, thanks to Fred and George's miracle cream), well, their potion was a mess.

She had probably been around eight stirs, she decided. That left maybe six or seven.

She had resumed her stirring when a voice said:

"That's counter-clockwise, Granger."

Her head shot up so quickly that her hands followed, splattering boiling-hot potion over the floor, her robes, and... Malfoy's.

"Ouch," he muttered, then cursed softly, shaking his sleeve. "Way to go, Granger."

"It was your fault," she snapped, and Vanished the spilled potion. "You're lucky I don't make you drink it." Then she looked down at her potion and gasped. "It's grey! Why is it grey? It's supposed to be blue!"

"Told you it was counter-clockwise."

She shrugged, ran a hand through her hair, and Vanished the remainder of her potion. She would have to start again. She glanced over at Malfoy, who was sitting next to Goyle, lounging back in his chair, a vial of clear, blue potion next to him. He rolled his eyes at her, and she was tempted to shatter the crystal vial to the floor – or, even better, actually make him drink it. The Pain Potion, also known as Scillinder's Potion, was reputed to be "almost as bad as" the Cruciatus Curse if consumed in high quantities. But most users preferred to dip their victim's sheets in it and wait for bedtime. It usually wasn't lethal; it only burned.

Severely.

Of course, they were studying this potion more because of its medicinal uses, as adding a few drops of it to any elixir would accelerate the healing, albeit making it a little more painful. This was why Scillinder had first created it. He had never been able to figure out which ingredients had transformed his elixir into a poison.

"All right," Bilmerk said, as she had almost (finally!) caught up with Neville and Goyle, "That's it for today. I'm not giving you any homework for next time, but expect a test on the properties of the potion you just attempted to brew." There was a collective moan, and he smiled. "Class dismissed."

Hermione stayed in her seat as the others rushed out the classroom, and Bilmerk walked over to her.

"Miss Granger," he said, his tone nowhere near friendly, but not cold, either. "I'm sure you know what I want to talk to you about. I'm sorry to have to say this, as your abilities are more than adequate, but I cannot give you the grade you deserve for my class if you don't start listening to my instructions."

She looked at him quizzically, and he ran a hand through his hair, looking almost nervous.

"What I mean to say is that everyone else is making an effort," he went on. "And I would – appreciate it if you didn't work alone all the time. It's been a month, Miss Granger. I realise the war has been hard on you, but it was my impression you chose to come back to have a normal seventh year. Am I correct?"

She nodded mutely.

"Then, if I were you, I would quickly find myself a partner."

"But, sir," she protested, "Isn't everyone else already paired up?"

"I'm sure they'll willingly accept Hermione Granger's help in Potions," Bilmerk said, smiling at her. "You can join an already-formed pair if you wish. Three is better than one, Miss Granger. You may go now. I hope you won't be late for you next class."

She had free period now, so that wasn't likely to happen.

She went straight to the library, not even trying to find someone for Potions. Recently, and for much the same reasons as those which had caused her predicament in Potions, she had taken to spending more and more time in the library. She had always loved it and its smooth wooden floor, its maze of bookshelves and its large windows which, on particularly sunny days, lit up the room with a golden hue and warmed up her favourite chair and table. Best of all, she loved the thousands of books she knew she couldn't ever finish, not even if she spent her entire life locked up there. And now, she loved the peace and quiet she found there.

She headed for "her" table, the one she always chose to sit at, the one which was almost hidden from view by shelves and which had a perfect view on the grounds below. The library was usually big enough for the few people who came so that Hermione could almost always be sure the table was empty, but this time...

"Granger in the library. What a surprise."

"Malfoy," she said in an equally icy tone. "What are you doing here?" As in, what are you doing in my chair?

"Free country."

Hermione hesitated, then dragged the other chair out from the table and sat down across from Malfoy. But instead of opening her book and ignoring him, she looked at him curiously. He really was thin, skeletal really, and his skin, drawn tight over his cheekbones, had taken on a sort of greyish, translucent colour. He looked worse than he had when Bellatrix had tortured her, worse even than he had looked on the train, if that was possible. The most unsettling change was in his eyes, which made him look decades older than he actually was.

"What are you staring at, Granger?"

"You look like a corpse," she said without thinking.

He looked surprised for a moment, maybe a little annoyed, and then an amused smile tugged the corners of his lips up, softening the harsh angles of his face. "Well, what would you know? I'm out of practice."

"What?"

"I can't seem to find an adequately insulting comeback," he explained straight-facedly.

Hermione laughed softly, then stopped, wondering at herself. She searched his face for an expression of superiority, for arrogance, for disdain, and could only find his present amusement and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, his serious, cold, wary eyes.

"So what did Bilmerk have to say?" Malfoy wanted to know. "Has he finally cracked and asked for your autograph?"

"No!" she said, feeling a flush creep up her neck. "No, he just told me I had to find a partner for his class."

"That's it? That's why you're looking depressed right about now?"

"I don't want a partner," she said. "And Professor Bilmerk knows it."

"Well, he's probably right. Merlin knows you need someone who actually knows what he's doing. Clockwise stirring a Scillinder's Potion, Granger? I couldn't believe my eyes."

"Shut up," she said, but she was laughing again, much to her surprise – and, she had to admit, her enjoyment.

The laughter stopped in her throat when she noticed Malfoy's expression. His face had suddenly darkened, like he was deep in thought. It changed his appearance completely, making him look starved, slightly crazy, and dangerous.

"Malfoy?" she said tentatively. "Is something wrong?"

"I shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, running a hand through his hand.

"Shouldn't be doing what?" she asked, a feeling of dread suddenly forming in the pit of her stomach. Had he caught on that she was – that he was?

Malfoy didn't answer her. He just looked at her. And then the smile was back, and he said, as though nothing had happened:

"I can help you in Potions."

"I don't need help!"

"Fine, fine," he said. "Just saying. Hey, Granger. Can I ask you something?"

"I – yeah, go ahead."

"Are you afraid of me?"

"What?"

"Are you afraid of me?" he repeated slowly, and she couldn't tell whether he was being serious or not.

"No, I most definitely am not!"

"Just asking."

He went back to his book, and after a stunned moment, Hermione imitated him. And for the rest of their free period you could hear nothing but the turning of pages and the occasional shifting in a chair to get more sunlight.

Thoughts, please? I loved writing this, for obvious reasons. But Draco came off as too easy-going, too light-minded in my opinion. He asked the question for deeper reasons than teasing. I wanted him to really wonder, to hope she would say no.

So next week you get a little more Alicia, some Fred, some someone else in a chapter called Ghostly Encounter, and some Dramione in Apology.