Chapter 4: Malfoy's Promise





Hermoine sat next to Harry at breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning. He was gibbering to Ron about Quiddich. Hermoine sighed. She enjoyed watching it, but all the boys seemed absolutely obsessed with Quiddich. The game was popular, and spots on the team were highly coveted. Hermoine had no talent for it. She had never been very big on sports of any kind.

"Who's the Captain, now that Wood's gone?" asked Hermoine, peering over at Harry.

"Alicia," he replied. He grinned. "Tryouts for the Keeper position happen on Saturday. You interested."

Ron snorted. "Hermoine? Playing sports?" Hermoine gave Ron a deep glare.

"And why not? Viktor taught my a lot about Quidditch."

"Yes, but can you do it?" Hermoine didn't dignify him with an answer.

She saw Patrice sitting next to a first year. Patrice looked lonely. Hermoine felt sorry for her. She had started off with no friends either. She went and sat next to the transfer student.

"Hi, Hermoine," Patrice said happily. Hermoine smiled.

"How was your first night here?"

"Fine, I guess. I feel kind of home sick though. . . . I miss my friends back at Totia." The blond girl heaved a sigh. "But it's not so bad. . . ."

Patrice pushed around the scrambled eggs on her plate.

"When do we get our time tables?" she asked. At that moment, the room filled with owls. Hermoine smiled.

"Now," she replied. An owl dropped her time table in her lap and took off again. A grey owl dropped another sheet of parchment in Patrice's lab.

Hermoine read over her time sheet.

"I have. . . ." she grimaced. "Potions first. You?"

"Potions," replied Patrice. Hermoine wasn't too surprised. They all had to take Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Transfigurations. Usually, people remained with their own houses, though it was possible that someone could be with another house if no one else took the course. In her Ancient Runes class last year, only she and Dean Thomas had taken it, so they were with the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs.

Hermoine did a quick check of her time table. Out of curiousity, she peered over to look at Patrice's time table. She felt her mouth drop open. They had the exact same time table!

"What?" asked Patrice. Hermoine showed her the time table. Patrice grinned.

"Cool! So then you can help me with finding each class." Hermoine had half expected her to ask for help with homework.

"Sure. . ." replied Hermoine. "I'll show you to Potions as soon as breakfast is done."



* * * * * * * * *



Patrice accompanied Ron, Harry and Hermoine to Potions class. She seemed to be easily confused by the corridors.

"I have no sense of direction," Patrice sighed. "I'll be getting lost for weeks!"

"You can always ask me for help," said Ron, his voice sounding very dreamy. Hermoine fought the urge to kick him. Why was he being such a -? She couldn't finish the thought. She wasn't sure what he was being. She just knew that it wasn't the normal Ron.

The tables each had two chairs at them, a place for a cauldron at the edges of the tables. Patrice grinned as if Potions was her favourite class. She took a seat next to Hermoine, right behind Ron and Harry. Soon, the Slytherinths began to come in. Patrice's face fell immediotly when she saw Malfoy and his goons. Hermoine couldn't say she blamed her.

Snape arrived shortly after Malfoy. His face was set once again in a deep scowl. Hermoine had only ever seen that man scowling, sneering or gloating. She had yet to see a happy look on his face. When the late bell rang, Snape glared out at all of them, his gaze resting on Patrice for a moment. For a brief moment, Hermoine thought that she saw a glimpse of fear in his eyes. It quickly passed, and Snape turned his attention to Neville.

"I trust you aren't going to cause an explosion this year." Neville turned bright red. The Slytherinths snickered.

Snape stood up at the top of the class.

"I hope you have been doing your homework over the summer. You are no longer juniors who will be given slack. You are senior now. I expect no more fooling around," this remark was directed at Harry and Ron, "or any catastrophes," he glared pointedly at Neville. "You will all be quiet and do as I say, or you will quickly find you may have to repeat my class. And trust me, you don't want to do that." Hermoine shuddered self-consciously. She glanced over at Patrice. Patrice looked horrified, though she was obviously trying to mask it.

Snape looked in their direction again.

"What's in a Drought of Dispelling?" he asked. Immediotly, people began to turn away. Malfoy looked puzzled, as if he could not remember. Hermoine thought back to her text books, trying to remember what it was. Slowly, ever so slowly, Patrice's hand went in the air. Everyone turned to look at her.

"Yes, Ms. Esotich?"

"A Drought of Dispelling contains newt blood, the blood of a wizard, Morning Star roots, diced evenly, three skinned caterpillars and you must repeat the incantation used in the spell that is being counteracted as you stir it with your wand. If it is a general Drought of Dispelling, you must add mandrake root, wolfsbane and spider legs." Snape's eye brow twitched.

"Very good," he said in a tight, controlled voice. Hermoine glanced at Patrice out of the corner of her eye. Neville was staring at her in disbelief, as were many of the others, Gryffindor and Slytherinth alike. Patrice blushed, and pretended that she did not see them. Snape went back to his lesson, but Hermoine was barely able to keep her mind on it. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up straight.



* * * * * * * * *

As they left the classroom for Charms, Patrice lingered. She was slower at gathering up her cauldron. She needed to hurry, if she wanted to get rid of the bulky thing before Care of Magical Creatures. Ron repeatedly offered to help her, which irked Hermoine greatly. Finally, Ron and Harry hurried off, leaving the two girls alone.

They had just started toward Care of Magical Creatures, when Malfoy met them in the hall. He gave them a self satisfied smile, strutting about as if he owned the place.

"Having fun, Mudbloods?" he asked. Hermoine scowled, but Patrice remained calm. She simply smiled, a hint of contempt on her face.

"I am no more a Mudblood then you are, Malfoy. Think before you speak. You never know who you are insulting, and if they can," she paused for effect, clenching her fist, "crush you like the bug you are." She gave him a loop sided smile. "Have a nice day," she said in a clearly fake pleasant tone.

Malfoy grabbed the collar of Patrice's robe.

"Never talk to me like that again, you insolent fool," he hissed. Hermoine's eyes went wide in disbelief. Patrice regarded him coolly.

"If you want my respect, you will earn it, Malfoy. If not, then release me. I have no qualms about dueling, even if it is against the rules." She pulled her collar free from his grasp, and continued on her way as if nothing had happened.

"Mark my words, girl, you will pay. You will never get away with this." Malfoy's cool demeanor had evaporated. He shook his fists at Patrice, his wand clutched tightly in his left hand. Patrice chuckled.

"The boy's all talk," she said, amusement in her voice. "Even if he does do something, I'm not afraid of that loser." Hermoine stared at the other girl in open astonishment. She had no clue what to say.