A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so sorry that I haven't been able to respond to reviews yet - the week got away from me! Don't worry, though, I will respond tomorrow. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Huge thank you to kristeristerin for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eight and be on the lookout for chapter nine soon!

November 1967

After Hermione had decided to search out Rodolphus in the Infirmary, he seemed to think that they had turned some sort of corner in their relationship. And, maybe they had, but it was a corner that Hermione wanted desperately to hide behind once again. He had resumed his old pastime of seeking her out whenever he got a spare minute.

He always tried to talk to her after her potions class, as she surmised he had a free period at the same time as her class and would spend it in the dungeons. Hermione always found herself incredibly interested in whatever nonsense James Whitby, her potions partner, wanted to talk about on her way up to the Great Hall. It was enough to keep Rodolphus at bay, and she only had to make it to the table before she was able to shake Whitby free.

Rodolphus also sought her out nearly every other day in the library no matter where she tried to sit. It drove her up the wall enough that she had finally snapped at him and asked him if he had any NEWTs to study for, or if he was solely interested in bothering her. She had settled on studying in her dorm room for a week, but the girls were far too focused on other things, and she found herself crawling back to the stacks just to get a few things done.

Hermione was beginning to feel more at home in the past than ever before. She'd settled into a routine and she was making friends - it seemed that people in the past were more willing to look past some of her brusqueness, blaming it on her being in an unfamiliar situation, rather than an unflattering character trait. And, the more that she fit in, the more that she grew into her life in the past, the more the guilt began to creep in. She shouldn't be enjoying herself here, especially not when Harry and Ron were fighting some unknown outcome in the future. Had they even made it out of the Department of Mysteries? Harry always seemed to have the best luck, but holding off a handful of grown Death Eaters seemed more than Harry could handle, even with his friends.

She was laughing at an uncharitable impression Elna was doing of Professor Kettleburn one Saturday morning, when she was suddenly struck by a familiar pang of guilt, a reminder that she didn't quite fit there. Her body ached, like she was too big for her skin, and she suddenly needed to get out of the dormitory. Making her excuses to the girls, Hermione slipped out of Gryffindor and out of the castle entirely.

The November air was bitter, but welcome. It shocked Hermione back into her body, pulling her out of lofty thoughts. It was nearly too cold to be outside, but not too cold that she couldn't manage a quick jaunt along the Black Lake.

She was nearly at the edge of the Forbidden Forest when she heard the telltale crunch of leaves under feet behind her and realized someone must have followed her. Turning, Hermione was dismayed to see the broad shoulders and carefree smile of Rodolphus Lestrange. Hermione let out a noise of frustration, hating that he invaded her moment of feeling normal once again. "Merlin, can you not take a hint?" she barked at him. "Why do you keep following me around everywhere?"

The smirk that he'd been wearing quickly fell from his face. "Why the hell won't you talk to me?" he demanded. "I thought that we were becoming friendlier with one another. We'd had actual conversations where we were friendly, and you visited me in the hospital ward after my injury. You insist that you aren't interested in Weasley, but you push off any attempt for me to just be nice to you. Why?"

Hermione's eyebrows drew together in confusion, wondering what would possess Rodolphus Lestrange to seek her out in the first place. She'd made no secret that she was muggleborn, so was it some kind of sick joke? "Why do you go out of your way to talk to me in the first place?" she questioned.

Rodolphus ran his hands through his hair, thinking about it for a second. "Why should I not?" he countered. "Your a nice, smart, pretty new student here. Everyone else can be nice to you, but I can't? What's so bad about me in particular that you turn tail every time you see me?"

She wasn't sure what to say and was left just opening and closing her mouth helplessly.

"I at least deserve an explanation!" he said, finally raising his voice - finally losing his cool for the first time since she'd met him.

"It's because I'm a muggleborn!" Hermione shouted back, finally snapping. "What's the point in acting friendly there is no remote possibility that you and I could ever be friends?"

Rodolphus looked stunned. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, sounding unsure of himself.

"Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?" she asked, unable to meet his hurt blue eyes. "I might be new to Hogwarts, but I am not completely unaware of the way the Wizarding World works. Your family hasn't exactly made a name for being tolerant of muggles or muggleborns, Rodolphus."

"So you are just going to completely write me off because of my family?" he demanded, clearly irritated that he was being reduced to something that he almost couldn't control. "That doesn't seem very fair to me."

"Neither is being completely written off by bloody purebloods because you are a muggleborn," Hermione countered, crossing her arms over her chest. It was odd to have this conversation when she didn't really ever talk about it in the future. She was sick of having to work so much harder to prove herself just because of who her parents were, especially when she proved time and time again that she could do anything a pureblood could do, and usually better.

"I haven't written you off because you are a muggleborn," he said, a fragile quality to his voice.

"Oh, so you are telling me that your family doesn't think that muggleborns are scum who shouldn't be allowed in the Wizarding World, and if they are, they should be reminded of their place?" she questioned sharply, needing to know exactly where he stood. Too often, even so-called tolerant wizards and witches had biases that they didn't know they had.

"My father might think that way," Rodolphus answered bitterly. "And my uncles and my grandparents, but I don't think that way. I've been at Hogwarts long enough to know that muggleborns are just as capable with magic, even if they are woefully ignorant of pureblood traditions and society. If they are going to try to be a part of our world, they should try to assimilate a little better."

"'Our world'?" Hermione asked, disgust in her voice. "I didn't realize that the purebloods were the gatekeepers to the wizarding world. I was pretty sure anyone who had magic was able to participate."

Rodolphus flushed, while he thought over his next words carefully. "Well, yes, I mean...the purebloods built this world, whether you want to admit that or not. You don't have to live as a witch if you don't want to," he said hotly.

"I want to be able to learn how to control my magic and contribute to society, the same as anybody else," Hermione explained. "For as long as there has been magic, there have been muggleborns, so we are just as much a part of the Wizarding World's history as purebloods even if you can't admit it. I just don't want to be treated like a second class citizen."

"I'm not trying to treat you like a second class citizen, Hermione," Rodolphus answered, obviously annoyed with the cyclical nature of their discussion. "I'm just trying to be your friend. But if you don't want that either, I'll just stop while I'm ahead."

Hermione nibbled away at her bottom lip, considering his words. Rodolphus seemed incredibly earnest that he didn't see her any differently, but she had to weigh what she knew from the future as well. Had something not happened yet in Rodolphus's life that would transform him into one of Voldemort's most ardent supporters? If he had a good muggleborn friend, was it possible he'd go down the same path? "I...It's not that I'm opposed to your friendship, it's just that I'm afraid I will end up hurt when you inevitably decide that your family and their beliefs are more important," she explained finally.

"My father...he doesn't expect much out of me," he revealed, his eyes dropping to the grass in shame. "He doesn't take too much interest in me or Rab, at all. I doubt he'd notice even if I told him over the dinner table."

"But, what would your father think if he found out you had a muggleborn for a friend?" she asked, even though she thought she had a good idea of what the answer would be. Still, she felt like she needed to bring it up.

Rodolphus just shook his head. "Leave worrying about my father to me," he insisted. "I can handle him on my own, without you worrying about it."

The pair of teenagers stood there together, staring at each other in silence for a long while, watching their breath make little clouds in the cold. Hermione could feel her heart hammering away in her chest, unused to feeling so unsure of herself. "So what does this mean?" she asked, finally.

"Friends?" Rodolphus offered, giving her a hopeful smile - a true smile, not one of those self-satisfied smirks or flirty half-smiles. "I'd really like to get to know you better, Hermione."

Hermione found herself returning the smile. "I don't even know why you would want to be friends with me in the first place," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "But, yes, I'll be your friend Rodolphus."

"Why wouldn't I want to be your friend? You are very smart and well liked, from what I understand, and you make me laugh," he explained honestly, his smile broadening as he thought it over. "And, maybe it turns out that we won't be good friends, but I'd at least like to try."

She was sure that this was probably going to end up terribly, that she was going to end up hurt by Rodolphus's beliefs eventually. After all, he was going to grow into one of Voldemort's most ardent supporters, and he wouldn't get there by having a muggleborn for a best friend. Either she was going to end up hurt, or she was going to change future events. Biting her lower lip, she knew the consequences could be disastrous, but really, what harm could come from changing a notorious Death Eater for the better? On the off chance that she might succeed, she had to at least try. "Alright," she said dropping her hands to her side in defeat.

"Alright?" he asked.

"You wore me down," she teased, glad that the mood was a little bit lighter now.

"Should we get back to the castle?" he asked, looking at her slightly shivering form. "You certainly aren't dressed for the cold."

Hermione laughed. "No, this was meant to just be a quick walk," she agreed, hoping that her teeth weren't chattering too loudly. Falling into step next to the taller Rodolphus, she looked up at him quickly. "How's your arm?" she asked, conversationally. "Still sore?"

"Thank you for asking," he answered, before moving the injured arm in it's socket. "It's getting better. I was cleared to go back to practice last week, but I'm still not at a hundred percent yet. I am hoping I'll be fully healthy for the Hufflepuff game. Can't let Malfoy get his first start over me or I'll never hear the end of it from him."

She was barely able to hide her laughter at that. The pair of teens continued their way up to the castle, chatting about completely innocuous topics until they were back in the warmth and safety of Hogwarts.