THE MANOR

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is JKR's or Warner Bros'. Anything else is mine.

Chapter 6 – Swearing in Greek

They had been back at school for over a month now, and Hermione found herself working frantically. All the fifth years were, their piles of work in preparation for the O.W.L.s growing day by day. Whenever Hermione, Harry or Ron weren't working, the two boys would be practicing Quidditch, while she performed her prefect duties.

Hermione's prefect duties were not heavy. They mostly involved patrolling certain corridors during night time one night a week. For now, she had been assigned the Astronomy tower on a Wednesday night from eight o'clock until half past eleven, which was fine with her, since she had Astronomy on Wednesday midnight anyway, and it kept her awake until then. Besides, it also meant she could do her Astronomy study while on duty, stopping every so often to send back couples who thought the Astronomy tower would be an intimate venue for romantic ventures. Personally, she couldn't see why anybody would want to have a romantic rendezvous at a place that was cold and chilly, although one could see the stars.

Prefect meetings occurred every week on a Friday afternoon and Hermione looked forward to these meetings. It was nice to be with the other prefects, who were all refreshingly responsible and pleasant people. Besides, it was nice to just sit back and not have to fret about her academic work. At their third prefect meeting, the Head Boy and Girl had informed them that there was to be a Christmas Ball. Apparently Dumbledore had been pleased with the success of the last one and so another one was planned. Votes quickly decided that this ball would be in costume, and then time began being spent on the organisational details. The prefects had to organise the ball.

Malfoy was strangely tolerable in these prefect meetings. He created little, or no trouble at all, and either sat back, listening to other suggestions, or involved himself politely. He never attacked her, or Neville, during these meetings. The only reason Hermione could imagine for this peace was that Malfoy wanted to be Head Boy, but it was still surprising. A pleasant surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.

Workloads increased, and with the onset of October, the new extra training sessions for Defense Against the Dark Arts began. All the Gryffindor fifth years went to the Great Hall with a certain amount of wariness. A whole two and a half hours with Slytherins from seven to half past nine sounded dangerous, and so, with heavy hearts, they readied themselves for fighting.

Just last week, after all, a few insults passed in the corridors had resulted in a full-blown fight between Harry, Ron and Malfoy, broken up by Professor Figg who had whipped out her wand and frozen the three into stasis. A few brief threats had them promising not to stir up any more trouble, but who would believe either of them? But now, in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where they would be authorised to cast curses and other dangerous things? Hermione shuddered with the possibilities.

After dinner when they had returned briefly to their common rooms, Hermione, Harry and Ron headed into the cleared up Great Hall, apprehensively, but also with some pleasure. Bill Weasley would be teaching them first.

'Bill!' Ron exclaimed as he went into the Hall.

'Ron,' Bill said, smiling. He was using his wand to cover the cold stone floor with soft mats. 'Hi Harry, Hermione,' he greeted his brother's best friends.

'How long will you be here?' Ron asked eagerly.

'About a month,' Bill replied as he uncurled another mat with a flick of his wand. 'Arabella's got Lupin coming in next,' he added.

'Do something to Malfoy at least once,' Ron begged, with an evil grin. 'We're in the same class, you know, and it'd be so much fun!'

'Dumbledore might get upset,' Bill said blandly.

'Don't see why,' Ron retorted loudly.

In time, the rest of the class had arrived and stood waiting in the centre of the hall. The two Houses were clearly divided. The Gryffindors stood watching Bill with eager, excited expressions. The Slytherins held sullen, bored, and distasteful looks on their faces.

Bill waved at them to sit down, and they did so – the Gryffindors obediently, the Slytherins reluctantly, and a few occasional mutters of 'why should we do anything that stupid Weasley tells us to do?'

'This class, as you should all know by now, is to increase your ability to defend yourself against the dark arts,' Bill began.

Seamus Finnigan snorted from where he sat. 'We're going to need it,' he muttered cynically with his Irish accent to Harry, jerking his head towards the ugly-looking Slytherins.

'I will be teaching you about curse-breaking. You should have already begun learning how to deflect them, but breaking them can be a bit trickier. Some people find it easier than others – I'm one of those,' Bill said candidly.

A swish of long, pale golden hair came in the back of the hall, and Bill smiled at Fleur Delacour who had entered.

'Miss Delacour will be helping me tonight,' he added unnecessarily to the class. Fleur smiled at him prettily. She was definitely interested in the hot young wizard who was taking the session.

Bill continued with fairly simple instructions, then gave a demonstration with Fleur hitting him with a Jelly-Legs curse. He broke out of it very effectively with a purple bang of light. The class applauded, amazed. It was impressive, a lot more impressive than running away or deflecting curses, which, as one can imagine, members of both houses thought rather cowardly.

As they dispersed to try the simple curses and break them among themselves, Hermione turned to Harry and Ron. 'That was really amazing,' she said, honestly impressed. She had never tried curse-breaking, although she had read about it, of course.

Harry and Ron nodded vigorously.

'That was nothing,' Draco Malfoy said disdainfully to Crabbe and Goyle at his side. They both hurriedly agreed although they had clapped enthusiastically along with the rest of the class.

Harry, overhearing, turned to him.

'Could you break out of a curse?' Harry asked furiously. He hated the way Malfoy kept degrading the Weasley family.

Malfoy sneered. 'Naturally,' he said arrogantly. 'Why, can't you or the Weasel?' he asked. He looked completely ready to pick a fight, and his wand was in his hand, half raised.

'Petrificus totalus!' Harry shouted, wand raised so suddenly that Hermione was surprised with the speed of the curse. It was so quick, the words not even terribly clear, although the intent, evident. Yet, equally quickly, Malfoy had shouted something she didn't catch with a slight flicker of his wand, and although he froze into a stasis momentarily, it suddenly broke with a flash of turquoise light, and he swiftly relaxed back into his normal, smug position. The force of his curse-breaking had thrown Harry to the ground.

As one may expect, many in the class were gaping.

Fleur exclaimed shrilly in shock. ' 'Arry! Are you alright?'

'Harry, what were you doing?' Bill asked, making his way over, a look of weary – here it comes – in his face.

'Malfoy provoked him,' Ron defended at once.

'Malfoy was demonstrating to us his fantastic ability to break out of curses,' Hermione said simultaneously, voice dripping with sarcasm, as she gave the smirking, pale-faced boy a cold look, which he wasted no time returning.

Bill sighed resignedly. He had expected trouble from Lucius Malfoy's son, but there was nothing really he could do, since Harry had cast the curse, even though he was provoked. 'Please don't do that again, either of you,' he said. His voice was more than a little tired. He had arrived at Hogwarts after two weeks of frantic work overseas talking with the Egyptian Minister of Magic as an ambassador for Dumbledore and was no mood for dealing out detentions. Detention for Malfoy would mean detention for Harry as well, which he had no intention of inflicting on the poor boy.

Draco Malfoy just gave Bill a contemptuous look. 'Weasleys,' Hermione heard him mutter scornfully under his breath.

The rest of the class continued smoothly enough, with successes becoming more frequent, although some never managed to get the hang of curse breaking, as Bill had predicted. Hermione, however, spent a lot of her time thinking about Draco Malfoy, and she often glanced over at him, eyes narrowed. He had managed to break out of a fairly difficult curse with virtually no warning. Such quick reflexes were impossible, she thought. No one could be that fast. The Petrifying Curse was especially difficult to break, because it could only be broken before the curse was set on you. And he had been fast enough to do it.

It definitely proved one thing though. That Malfoy's grasp on magic was a lot better than many of them had suspected. Hermione wanted to tear out her hair in frustration. Malfoy kept surprising her, and she didn't really like it. Ever since that first Care of Magical Creatures class, nothing had happened with magical creatures. Malfoy was unnervingly quiet in the classes, and almost seemed to be avoiding anything demonstrative in an effort to field off her enquiries.

Hermione drifted over in the direction of Malfoy. 'Why do you keep baiting Harry and the Weasleys?' she hissed at him.

He was watching Crabbe and Goyle trying to break each other's curses, a distinctly derisive expression on his face.

'Granger,' he said acidly. 'Shut up.'

Hermione frowned, and opened her mouth.

'I wanted to get a word in first,' he added.

Hermione closed her mouth, looking at him confusedly. Whatever did he mean by that? At that moment, Bill began speaking, so she did as Malfoy had suggested, and shut up.

'We will be spending the next week also learning how to break out of curses, and then we will learn about breaking curses placed on other objects. That is more standardly required – most of the time, it is easier to just deflect or resist the curse, but it is hard to do that on an inanimate object,' Bill finished the lesson.

The next morning, at breakfast, Harry and Ron were surprisingly awake as they ate their breakfast. They were busy plotting.

'We need one thing, Hermione,' Ron said solemnly, as Hermione approached them. 'One thing only.'

Hermione raised her brow, waiting.

'Revenge,' Harry finished.

Hermione stared at them both. 'What?!?'

'Malfoy's going too far,' Harry explained seriously.

'He's even acting up to the teachers,' Ron said, complaining with wild arm gesticulations.

Harry nudged Ron. 'Er, Bill's not really a teacher, Ron,' he reminded.

'Close enough,' Hermione said firmly.

Harry and Ron's eyes brightened with the approval of their friend. Hermione never approved of their mischief-making and bending of school rules.

'Right,' Harry said enthusiastically. 'What are we going to do?'

'Turn him into a ferret again?' Ron's eyes brightened.

Hermione groaned. 'That's a bit unoriginal,' she objected. Harry though, obviously thought this was a fantastic idea.

'We could get Bill to do it,' he agreed. Hermione coughed loudly at this, and Harry sighed regretfully. 'But again, he mightn't want to.' He hit another idea. 'How about making him talk nonstop? That would drive the teachers insane! Can you imagine Snape's reaction?'

Ron grinned. 'That's a good one,' he gloated. 'We could also make him fall off during the next Quidditch match! How about that?'

Fortunately, Harry hadn't lost all his senses. 'We're targeting Malfoy, not Slytherin,' he said mournfully, his sense of honesty coming through. 'And that'd be like cheating.' He paused. 'But how about this? After the match, when he's flying back, we could make him fall off,' Harry suggested eagerly

Hermione listened to this train of talk for just a while longer, while the ideas got generally more outrageous and foolish. Then, with a deliberate 'ahem,' she got their attention.

'Do you have any suggestions, Hermione?' Harry asked solicitously.

Hermione wanted to roll her eyes, but refrained. Yes, Malfoy was a stupid git, but they were going just a bit too far. Some of their far-fetched plans were ones she wouldn't even wish on her worst enemy. 'You do realise that what you're planning could get you into a lot of trouble if you're caught?' Hermione demanded reasonably.

Ron did roll his eyes. 'We won't get caught,' he said with a tone of great patience. 'We could ask Sirius' help. He and Harry's dad always managed to bust up Snape.'

'But they did get caught, didn't they,' Hermione pointed out. 'Fred and George, who would know about this sort of thing, told me that the record holder for the most detentions was one S. Black on one hundred and three, in 1975.'

'True,' Ron conceded. 'But I still think getting Malfoy to dance around in the Great Hall during the Hallowe'en feast would be bloody brilliant.'

'Actually, Ron, there's a bit of a flaw with that,' Fred had joined in the conversation.

'How about we sell you one of our Canary Creams and you use it on the ferret?' George suggested. 'That's publicly humiliating.'

Now Hermione did roll her eyes, and turned to glance at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting there, watching them, yet completely unaware of the evil plans being carefully laid out for him by the two idiots sitting next to her. His grey eyes caught hers momentarily though, and from the glint of human amusement in them, Hermione suddenly had a feeling that he was completely aware of what Harry and Ron were planning. The congenial moment died before one could count to one though, and he gave her one of his best sneers.

Hermione shook her head in disgust. Let Harry and Ron do their work.

The Daily Prophet arrived at that moment courtesy of the owl post, and Hermione, grabbing her copy, opened the newspaper to read the headlines.

'Arthur Weasley New Minister of Magic!' the large headline screamed next to a picture of a beaming Arthur and Molly Weasley. 'Yesterday's election proved to be a winner for the former Minister of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts …'

'Ron!' Hermione grabbed Ron on the shoulder, and he gave her quizzical look, until she shoved the paper in front of him.

Ron's jaw dropped. 'I'd completely forgotten about it!' he gasped. Then, he gave a great cheer that resounded throughout the hall. 'Fred, George, Ginny!' he shoved them the paper. Then spying Bill on the Staff table where he was eating breakfast with Fleur Delacour, waved the paper in his eldest sibling's face.

Bill's eyes widened, and he jumped over from the Staff table to his siblings, where they joined in a celebratory hug. The other Gryffindors were cheering, clapping nobody in particular, and congratulating the Weasleys on their father's crowning achievement.

Hermione, pulling herself away from George's exuberant hug, eyed the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was watching the Weasley celebration sourly. She gave him a sweet smile, and he scowled. Hermione was now happily aware of the reason for his extremely short temper last night. He must have found out yesterday, somehow, before the media came out, and she felt very contented, knowing that a Weasley had beat a Malfoy.

That Sunday, at the frighteningly early hour of half past six, Hermione was up and dressed, sitting in her dormitory. Harry and Ron had Quidditch practice and Hermione had decided to go along and watch, wanting to be outside in the fresh air after being cooped up in the castle for so long. However, as she noticed the looks of fanaticism on their faces as they headed towards the Quidditch pitch armed with plenty of parchments on which plans had been scribbled, Hermione decided it might be just a tad bit boring following them to the field. She'd also look just a bit foolish sitting there watching all by herself.

Sighing, she resolutely got out her books. She had better not waste the time, since she was already changed and everything, and do some constructive study. However, even as she took out her books, she frowned. She did not want to study now. It was Sunday morning, for crying out loud! So, she put the books back. Hermione pulled out a book to read, and felt guilty as she did so. Reading a fictional book with absolutely no relevance to her study was not good. It was a complete waste of time. Hermione reluctantly put the book back.

Then, as she glanced outside the window and caught sight of Hagrid's hut, she hit a brainwave. She could go and visit the winged horses! They weren't going to be set loose for a while yet, but today was a good time to observe them. It would be fun, an activity outdoors, but still related to her school work! And she could have a chat with Hagrid over steaming hot cups of tea, which she hadn't done in a while, since he was always so busy 'doin' things you shouldn't know anythin' about.' Perfect!

It was just a bit chilly outside, so she picked up a thick black cloak to put on over her casual clothes, and a red and gold Gryffindor scarf and gloves, before she took out a notebook and quill to write down her observations about the winged horses.

As she looked closely at the hut once more before she left, she noticed a certain white-blond Slytherin walking up to Hagrid's hut. Malfoy! He had to be up to something, she decided rapidly, and so it was up to her to save the day. She had even more of a reason to visit Hagrid's hut now. Hermione checked her wand was in her pocket, before she left the common room. Whatever Malfoy was planning to do (admittedly fantastic ideas swept through her mind of Malfoy burning down Hagrid's home, killing the creatures housed in the yard, getting himself injured again to get Hagrid out of there) could not be good.

Hermione slipped out of the castle after putting on the cloak, scarf and gloves to keep herself warm. In the distance, she could see several red-clad figures on the Quidditch pitch zipping about madly as they prepared vigorously. Their first game was coming up next week and Harry and Ron were determined to thrash Ravenclaw to smithereens.

Making her way to Hagrid's hut quickly and determinedly, she saw no sign of Malfoy when she arrived. Hermione frowned. Maybe he had already left. She shrugged, and returned to her earlier intentions of talking to Hagrid, and knocked on the door. Hagrid was usually up early. There was, however, no response, and she peered inside the windows, to see the gamekeeper's giant oilskin coat and dog, Fang, missing. Hagrid had obviously gone elsewhere, probably into the Forbidden Forest or something. Her eyes narrowed. This would make it easier for Malfoy to do his mischief.

Making her way around the back to the stable which also housed the four winged horses at night, she stopped short as she spied a pale, blond head of a slight figure clad in black in front of one of the stalls. Pegasus' stall. Hermione grimaced, and resolutely headed forward with a certain amount of caution.

A sudden breeze flipped the pages of her notebook, and he spoke without warning.

'Granger,' he said without turning around, his voice stopping her in her tracks.

'How did you know it was me?' Hermione asked irritably. Malfoy had that effect on her sometimes. It was a bit off-putting.

'Aside from the fact that you must be the only person in the entire school who usually wakes at this hour, aside from me, of course–'

'How do you kn–' she began to protest.

'–and the fact that I could hear the sounds of a notebook. Now,' he turned around, a smirk on his face as his grey eyes flickered over her face, 'who exactly goes running around at this hour in the morning carrying a book?'

Hermione scowled. This was not good.

He continued relentlessly. 'Besides, who else would come running out of their warm cosy common room to check up on possible sabotage?'

Hermione flushed. It was obvious that he knew her suspicions, evident from the amusement that glimmered in his eyes.

'Fine!' she said with a huff. 'You've figured it all out. But what are you doing here?' she asked hastily.

A contemplative look came across his face. 'I was thinking now might be a good time to go flying.'

He paused.

Hermione frowned. What did he mean? His broom was nowhere in sight. Her glance strayed over to the huge winged horse he stood before, and her mouth opened a bit.

'You c–' she began, dawning horror on her face.

'Are you going to stop me?' he asked one eyebrow raised, as he opened the door, and led out the white Abraxan.

'Er,' Hermione could only utter. He ignored her, and mounted swiftly, using the fence to mount the large horse. As he sat there, Hermione couldn't help noting how faery-like Malfoy appeared, sitting astride a magical, winged horse whose white feathers and skin gleamed in the sun, that almost seemed to dance lightly above the sparkling white snow. Malfoy's own pale hair shimmered with the early sunlight, and the black cloak he wore contrasted starkly to the shining whiteness of everything else. The faery image was ruined somewhat by the smirk that sat firmly on his face.

'So what, you're just going to fly now?' Hermione asked incredulously.

'Want a ride?' Malfoy offered. Hermione stared at his proffered hand, mind whirling.

All her life, she had wanted to fly. Flying was the one thing she had always wanted to do, the reason why she envied birds, and to some extent, Quidditch players. When she had first heard about flying lessons at Hogwarts, she had been very excited. Until she had first gotten onto a broom. Let's just say, Hermione and brooms don't get along very well.

'Well?' Malfoy asked a little impatiently.

Hermione just continued to gaze into the air. And then, in third year, she had flown on the back of a hippogriff. Not the most comfortable means of flying. But now, this … this was a horse with wings. Hermione quite liked horse riding. She had begun taking lessons when she had been nine, but her parents balked, when one of the boys in her riding class had been thrown, and severely injured, with (horrors of horrors for dentists) three teeth knocked out and two teeth chipped. That had been the end of riding for her.

But maybe flying on a winged horse would be infinitely superior to flying on a broomstick or, a part eagle-lion whatever species.

She hesitated still. 'It could be quite dangerous. And I hate flying on broomsticks, Hippogriffs are uncomfortable, and both of us probably wouldn't fit,' she rambled, trying to string her thoughts together. The last sentence made no sense – the back of the Pegasus was broad and long. 'Besides, we would probably get into a lot of trouble, and could be suspended, or expelled–' she continued mindlessly.

'Are we scared, Granger?' Malfoy drawled, obviously enjoying himself as he watched her squirm uncomfortably. Suddenly he gave her a suspicious look. 'When did you fly a Hippogriff?'

'Slip of the tongue,' Hermione said hastily.

He narrowed his eyes at that, but let it pass as he gave her a challenging look. 'So are you going to join me?'

Hermione sighed. She would regret this when she regained consciousness lying in a hospital bed. She took Malfoy's hand.

'Finally,' he muttered, as he lifted her up in front of him with surprising strength.

Hermione marveled from her new vantage point – higher up than she was used to – when suddenly she jerked forwards, and she felt Malfoy's arm around her waist keeping her from falling.

'Thanks for telling me,' she snapped.

'No worries,' he replied carelessly, but Hermione forgot all about arguing as Pegasus lifted off the ground, beating his large wings. It was fantastic.

And awe-inspiring, breathtaking, absolutely wonderful, a heavenly or divine experience, one that she had never before anticipated, even better than hoped for, overwhelming, splendid, tremendously brilliant … you get the drift.

As they soared through the sky, Hermione's stomach sometimes dived and hopped around, doing some mad erratic dance of fear, but she ignored it. This was flying. The sun had risen higher, and now shone brightly and warmly over them.

Hermione couldn't help it, and whooped as Pegasus turned.

'Pegasus' wings needed stretching anyway,' Draco said in her ear. She barely even noticed his closeness.

'This is amazing,' she breathed. 'This is definitely the way to fly, Draco.'

'You called me Draco,' he half-shouted, his words harder to hear in the wind.

Hermione flushed. 'Slip of the tongue.'

'You're doing a lot of those,' he said, his voice light and teasing.

Hermione turned a little, and was surprised to see his face so near hers, and grinned. 'I don't suppose you'd like to get me one of these for Christmas?'

He pondered. 'I could, but it's a little hard to sort out the legalities. They're a bit expensive, but that doesn't really matter – they'd be cheaper on the wizarding black market,' he grinned. 'However, you would have problems controlling it, if I weren't around –' he bit his lip.

Hermione's mind whirled – due to two factors. He had actually serious contemplated getting her an Abraxan? She had definitely been joking. And secondly, what was this business about him being around? It sounded suspiciously like the stuff he had been trying to avoid discussing earlier.

And now, Hermione wanted to speak two things. Question him about his seriousness, or inquire about his little slip of tongue.

Hermione sighed. She was a good girl, a Prefect, responsible member of all communities … it was clear she would have to follow up on his slip of tongue. 'What do you mean, "if I weren't around," ' she quoted him, turning back around to face the front, uncomfortable about facing him about that.

He didn't answer.

'Malfoy?' she asked, about to turn back around and direct a piercing stare at him.

Pegasus suddenly gave a dive downwards, and Hermione emitted a squeak, as her stomach took a dive somewhere she wasn't sure had existed in her. She clung tightly onto Pegasus' mane with one hand, the other held tightly onto Malfoy's hand around her waist.

And then, just as suddenly, Pegasus changed direction, and headed upwards again.

'Wow,' Hermione said, eyes wide, still trying to calm her panicking heartbeat.

'Wow indeed,' Malfoy said, a grin in his voice. 'Still want one for Christmas? That's what they do when they want to shake someone off.

Hermione didn't speak as Pegasus continued to fly above the Forbidden Forest, still busy recollecting her breath. She did notice though, that he had managed to effectively change the subject. They flew fairly peacefully – a lot more smoothly, and finally glided down to land effortlessly back where they had started from, whereupon, they sat, unmoving for a moment.

'I know I'm very comfortable,' Malfoy drawled, 'but it'd be nice to get back inside the Great Hall for a hot breakfast.'

Hermione jumped forwards with an embarrassed start. She hadn't realised she was still using Malfoy as a means of support. Malfoy leapt lightly off Pegasus, and then helped her down, with surprising courtesy.

The two stood, looking at each other.

'That was fun,' Hermione confessed, a little shyly.

'You're welcome,' he said, as he led Pegasus back to his stall. 'And don't worry about it. Hagrid let me fly Pegasus. Pegasus says to tell you he enjoyed it too.'

Hermione's brow shot up, but didn't push it. 'Is he named after the famous Pegasus?' she queried instead.

'A descendent,' he explained with no hint of sarcasm. 'He's really Pegasus the fiftieth or something like that,' Malfoy said carelessly. The horse nudged his shoulder, and Malfoy nodded. 'Sorry. My little winged friend here,' he jerked his head at the horse, 'prefers accuracy. May I present Pegasus the Fifty-Sixth?'

Hermione's mouth opened. 'You can talk to him?'

It looked like Draco Malfoy was finally ready to volunteer some information. 'A little,' he admitted. 'It's not a big thing,' he quickly said. Hermione wanted to ask more, but decided, she had to wait. She really shouldn't push it when he actually offered details.

'Besides, Pegasus can be a bit stuffy sometimes,' he added. 'He likes to use awfully pompous language – thees and thous are sprinkled a little too liberally,' he sniffed disapprovingly. 'And he swears in Greek, so I can't understand it when he does.'

This time Pegasus nudged him a little harder.

'My apologies,' he said flamboyantly. He patted Pegasus, and then headed to the school with Hermione.

'Thanks a lot, for the ride,' Hermione said as they approached the school.

He smiled, the expression making him look so much more pleasant and approachable. 'No worries. Did you get enough information to write about?' he asked, nodding at her notebook.

Hermione giggled. 'I now know that Abraxans swear in Greek.'

He laughed too – a short sound, but still a laugh.

'Thank you, really, Draco,' Hermione said earnestly. She called him by his first name, deliberately, this time.

With no trace of sarcasm, he answered her. 'You're welcome, Hermione.'

The next day, when Hermione went to Arithmancy, she was first in the classroom, and she sat down, waiting for the others, and Professor Vector to arrive. The others came in shortly, and Professor Vector arrived on the dot. A minute later, Draco Malfoy came into the classroom, and slid into the seat next to Hermione. Hermione raised her brow in surprise, but said nothing. From then on, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had reached a truce, of sorts.

Author's note:

Oh my! My first reviews! They were very much appreciated by me, and constructive, too! Thanks!

Cinnamon - Yeah, I know, writing the whole chunk about Voldemort and stuff was boring, but that's how JKR usually begins her books, and I also sort of wanted another person's take on the events of the past. I'm very flattered! You put me on your fav stories?

Alexis-Lee - Draco's a growing boy, and entitled to change. But yes, the change seems a bit sudden to Hermione (and you) because she's hasn't seen him for two months. Two months can do a lot. It's nothing terribly dramatic or out of the blue, but something that I do believe could potentially affect a character like his. And never fear, Sirius will reappear in the action after a few more chapters. And Harry's state of near-perpetual gloom will be explained too.

Lady Prongs - For stuff on Draco, see above. As for the title? Don't worry. Manors do pop up down the line, probably to the annoyance of all the good guys.