Usually the Friday evening after the first week of classes was devoted to moaning about how unreasonable the teachers were in their assignments and expectations, and then dismissing thoughts of school for discussions about the upcoming Quidditch season and who had done what over the summer break. This year, however, the only topic of conversation was the events in Snape's fifth year potions class. When the other students heard about the experiment, they were surprised, to say the least.
"Well, that's a new one!" exclaimed Fred Weasley. "We never had to do anything like that."
"Maybe because we're just such a naturally friendly bunch, there was no need for potions," his twin offered, only to be hit by a pillow for his efforts.
"Perhaps this is some new curriculum thing because of the Tournament last year," said Angelina. "It's not like there was a great deal of friendliness going on between the three schools."
"Well of course not, stupid, it was a competition," George told her and was hit with several pillows this time.
"No really," Harry said. "Maybe she's right. There's way to much fighting between us and the Slytherins and maybe Dumbledore decided that he should encourage us to be friends, even if only by magic."
"Well, I can tell you one thing," Ron put in, "the only way I am ever going to be friends with Crabbe is through magic. Just the thought of it makes me shiver. And you, Hermione, with Malfoy! How gross is that?"
Hermione looked up from the books she had already surrounded herself with.
"Huh?"
"I was just saying, how gross that you have to be friends with Malfoy, even by magic."
"Oh, ugh, don't make me think about it. Yick." And she put her head down to study the book in front of her.
The discussion of what was happening continued around the common room, but Hermione didn't pay it the slightest attention. Although she wasn't paying attention to her books either. All she could think about was how she was trapped into being friends with the one person in Hogwarts whom she hated more than anything. The real bother was that she kept thinking that maybe this was her chance to make him see how wrong he was and make him not hate her anymore. Which wasn't a thought she wanted to have at all.
. . .
The over the next few days, Draco avoided any possible contact with Hermione and her friends. It wasn't anything in particular, he kept telling himself, just that the thought of cheerily saying "Hey, how's it going?" to her, like Crabbe did to that Weasley twit at breakfast, made his insides twist. Not in a nervous way, of course. It was disgust, pure and simple. He was superior to that Muggle-born and there was no way that he was ever going to act friendly towards her. He would just be distant and let her know that a wizard from his illustrious family would never be tainted by getting close to the likes of her. It was just that he was superior and was going to show it, which was why he carefully brushed his hair back and checked to make sure his robes were looking their best before heading to the library for their study date. There was nothing more to it, he thought to himself as he hurried through the corridors to the library. Nothing.
. . .
Hermione was standing beside the library doors, trying not to fidget too much. She didn't want Draco thinking she was nervous or anything. No, she wasn't nervous, she just wanted to get this meeting over with as soon as possible so that she didn't have to worry about what was going to happen when she saw him. What if the potion had affected only one of them? Meaning her. She was getting really worried because she couldn't summon up her usual disgust of Draco... Malfoy! She was even thinking about him with his first name. That had to be a bad sign.
"Hermione."
She jumped, but just a little, at least she hoped it was just a little. She looked up to see him standing right in front of her. Looking almost, well, uncertain or something.
"Oh good. You're here. And on time. Good. Well, um, let's go and find a table and get this over with so we can go, um, do other stuff. Uh, I mean separate other stuff."
Hermione could feel herself blushing as she spoke. She pushed through the library doors and hurried to an empty desk in an alcove between two sets of shelves, calling herself all kinds of names as she went. ~I'm losing it,~ she thought. ~Grief, I never babble. What the hell? Is this the potion? Oh great. Now I just have to keep my fingers crossed that he's as messed up as I am.~
The two students dropped their books on the desk and took chairs on opposite sides. Neither wanted to initiate conversation, so for several minutes the only sounds were of pages flipping a quills scratching on parchment as students on the other side of the bookshelves worked on their first projects. Draco fidgeted with his parchment and quill while Hermione flipped through her potions book until finally her studious side overcame her reservations and she spoke.
"All right, Malfoy, we have to sort this project out somehow, which is going to be a little hard if you're not even going to deign to speak to me."
"Me? I'm not the one pulling the silent treatment, I'm just trying to get my work done," he said defensively, looking down at his scroll, where he'd only written the date, his name, and the topic of the assignment.
"Well, if we don't know what sections we're each doing, how are we supposed to get any work done?"
"Fine," he snapped. "Why don't we divide this up and get on with it. I have better things to be doing with my time than hang out in a library with you."
"Feeling's mutual, Malfoy. So how do you want to divide this up - each of us takes two incidents where the potion was used, and we can get together next week and put our research together."
"Why don't we just each write up our halves and hand it in. That way we don't have to meet at all."
"Well, how are we supposed to know that we agree on what the other person said? What if we end up with a paper that says two completely different things? Not to mention Snape'll kinda notice when we hand in two separate scrolls."
"Okay, fine. I'll give you my work in class next week and you can copy it onto yours."
"What? I'm not your secretary, Malfoy! We're going to do this properly, because there's no way I'm getting a bad mark just because I had the misfortune of being paired with you."
"Okay, Granger, what do you want? More cozy study sessions in the library? Secret assignations in the astronomy tower?"
Hermione leaned across the table and whispered furiously, "Shut up, you idiot. I don't want to spend time together any more than you do." She settled back into her seat and pulled her hair from her face. "But I do want to do this project properly, so we'll meet here next week and we'll put the essay in order then. Then we can fight over who gets to copy it all out. I'm thinking that the person with the least amount of other homework gets that chore. How many classes are you taking, Malfoy?" She smiled sweetly, the effect ruined by the malice in her eyes.
Draco glared at her, then looked down at his books. "Fine. Whatever. So how are we going to divide this up? There's like ten examples here."
"Well, I want to do the Centaur Rebellion of 1527 and the Continental councils of 1742, so you can pick any of the others. I really don't care. Just do the research and we'll meet in two weeks. Sound good?"
Hermione didn't give him a chance to reply as she grabbed her books and hurried from the table. This project was the worst idea Snape had ever had. Whatever the potion she and Draco - Malfoy, dammit! - had drunk, it sure wasn't making them any friendlier. At least she didn't have to deal with him outside of potions class for two weeks.
. . .
Two weeks later, Draco leaned against the stone wall outside the library, waiting for Hermione. He was looking forward to showing her the scroll he'd written on the two conflicts of his choice; he'd worked harder than usual on the paper and was pleased with the results. He wanted to show the Muggle twit that she wasn't the only one who was good at the whole school work thing. While Draco didn't particularly think that school work was important, he didn't want the Granger girl to show him up by actually doing a better job than he did. And tonight he was going to get extra ribbing in because she was running late - he'd been waiting for ten minutes and then was no sign of the girl.
When Hermione finally did turn the corner of the hallway, all the nasty remarks that Draco had been polishing flew from his mind. Hermione's left arm was tied up in a sling and there was a lurid black and purple bruise on the side of her face. Without thought, he hurried to meet her halfway and took her books from her.
"What on earth happened to you?" He was surprised by the concern in his voice, as was she.
"Nothing important. I still managed to get my work done, don't worry," she said defensively as they turned to enter the library.
"That wasn't what I asked, Granger. What did that to you? Take a spill from a broomstick?" he mocked, feeling slightly guilty when he looked at her bruised face.
"No, Malfoy, I didn't wipe out during flying lessons. I got into a bit of a scrape the other night and Madame Pomfrey decided it was better if I rested my arm for a while. Nothing interesting."
She walked quickly towards the same isolated table where they had sat the previous week. It seemed sensible to sit out of view of prying eyes while she was working with Malfoy, even though the bookshelves wouldn't hide much if they ended up arguing again.
"Off adventuring with Potty and the Weasel, were you?" Draco asked sarcastically, coming up beside her. "Trying to save the world for all the defenseless Muggles?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, Malfoy, we were 'off adventuring' as you put it. And trying to do something about the fact that there are great threats out there. Not particularly something I want to discuss with you. So let's just work on the assignment, okay?"
. . .
Hermione tried to grab her books back from Malfoy and gasped when she moved her arm. Madame Pomfrey had reassured her that it wasn't broken, but it hurt like hell when she tried to do the littlest thing. Although she and the boys had been very careful the other night while trying to track down Wormtail, the Whomping Willow was still faster than them. And the worst part of the whole evening was that they'd lost the little rodent into the Dark Forest when Harry and Ron had stopped to help her. She was still cursing herself over that.
Fortunately, there had been no sign of the creep trying to get back into the castle the past few nights, so perhaps they'd managed to intimidate him. She could only hope. For once, it would be really nice if there could be a term at Hogwarts without intrigue and near death experiences. Hermione knew better than to actually expect such a thing, but it really would be such a nice change. Of course, at least their little adventure the other night had managed to keep her mind off of the fact that she was having to work with Draco. Who was staring at her with a look of ... concern?
"What?" she snapped, reaching for her books with her good arm this time. "You one of those sickos who likes watching people in pain?"
"Huh? Ugh! No!" Draco moved to the other side of the table, his worry over how pale Hermione had gone when she moved her bad arm replaced by the usual anger he felt around her.
"Okay, then stop staring at me. Let's trade scrolls and see what we've got to work with, okay. I'd like to get this over with."
"Fine by me."
. . .
The two students sat in silence as they read each other's papers. Draco heard Hermione's quill scratching as she wrote some notes on a scrap of parchment beside her. Probably writing down some nasty criticisms, he thought. He read more intently after that, trying to find some aspect of her work he could complain about.
After about half an hour, both students gave up the pretense of reading and sat back. They stared at each other warily, until Draco broke the silence.
"So, do I pass, Professor?" Sarcasm dripped from his voice.
"Well, I have to disagree with some points, but generally, it was actually good."
"Don't sound so surprised. You're not the only person here who can think," he said defensively.
"Okay, so I was expecting it to be bad. Who can blame me? It's not like you seem to actually apply yourself ever. The general consensus is that Daddy buys your grades."
"My father does not! I do work at this. If I didn't bring home good marks, I'd be dead. It doesn't help that someone like you is top of our class."
"Someone like me? You mean a 'Mudblood'? Does it make you look bad that I can do this better than you can?"
"Well yeah! Of course. My father says that I have to get better marks than you because otherwise it might make people think that a Muggle-born could actually do better than a Malfoy."
"And that would be so wrong. Oh please!"
"Look, let's just get this over with. I'm fine with what you say in your essay, though Snape's not going to like the Muggle loving bits in the second part."
"Says who? It's an historical fact. And Snape's not some nasty Muggle hater like you are."
"I don't hate Muggles. I just don't care about them. They should stay out of our world. My father says that Hogwarts should never have let Muggleborns be here in the first place, and that ever since they started to come in, that's when things got messy. He says that if the world were only pure-bloods, we wouldn't have any of the problems we have now."
"Well, maybe your father should remember that his great hero was half Muggle himself. And that inbreeding creates morons!"
"Chill out and keep your voice down!" Draco said, looking around to make sure no one had noticed them. "I'm just saying that Snape might not like that bit, so calm down."
"Calm down! Have you forgotten that that's my parents you're insulting? And me? And most of my friends! Practically half of the school comes from Muggles one way or another. Maybe you don't care about this argument, but it's pretty important to most people."
"Look, let's just get on with this, okay? I'm not saying you have to change anything. So what about my scroll? Is it acceptable?"
. . .
Hermione took a deep breath, trying to gather her temper. Yelling at Draco in the library wasn't going help anything. It wasn't as though the little prat was ever going to change the way he thought about things. Not if he barely cared about the issues to begin with.
"Okay, it's good," she finally said. "But I think that perhaps your point about the potion being used as a trick against the members of the rebellion of 1690 was a little over the top. It wasn't a trick, it was an attempt to make the two sides see eye to eye. And if we do portray it as a trick, it was a trick against both sides of the issue, not just the Purity group."
"Well, I have to disagree. The Purity group lost their rebellion as a result. My father says that had they not used that potion, perhaps things would have swayed the other way, and they would have succeeded."
"So your father's a historian now?" Hermione scoffed. "Please, four centuries of political analysis says that had they not used the potion, the rebellion would have still failed, but with bloodshed and mayhem instead."
"Yeah, well, Father's says that the use of the potion was premature. There was a strong chance that the outcome could have been different."
"Really?" she mocked. "Well perhaps we can use your father as one of the references. Does he have a book on the subject or should we just put 'Rantings of Lucius Malfoy' in the bibliography?"
"Look, I'm just telling you what he says," snapped Draco. "If you think that Snape won't buy it, we can cut that bit out, okay?"
"Sounds good to me. I'll scratch it out."
"Is there anything else, Madame editor?"
"No, it's fine. Why don't you just rewrite the bit we talked about and we can meet here again on Saturday and sort out the order of the final paper. I'm thinking that chronological order makes the most sense, d'you agree?"
"Sure, whatever. And if you come up with other ideas on how I can write my paper, just send me an owl, okay."
Draco grabbed his scroll and books and stomped off, leaving Hermione staring at his back. ~Looks like the potion still isn't working,~ she thought.
. . .
Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, fuming. That Granger girl had presumed to tell him how to write his paper. It wasn't as though she knew any more about the issue than he did. And all her ranting about the Muggle-lover comments! She got way too riled over things like that. That was why people like her and her friend Weasley were never going to go anywhere. Too emotional. His father always said emotions would be the downfall of anyone who allowed themselves be ruled by them. Draco worked hard to emulate that point of view, although some emotions crept in or couldn't be suppressed, no matter how hard he tried.
And sometimes he couldn't control the anger he felt when he watched people admiring Miss Perfect Granger, or the Heroic Potter. It wasn't that he particularly cared about Granger's parents, or Muggles at all, it was just that he hated seeing people like that get ahead in the world when he, a Malfoy, should be the most important person in the school. And the worst part was that it seemed like most of the school was on their side. There were barely any students who had realized that to align with a Malfoy was to join a winner. And the only teacher who gave him any respect for his family's power was Snape, who was acting oddly this year. School was horrid even without his father's pressure. And then there were the other matters with his father, which were to be avoided if at all possible.
It was so frustrating. He wanted to yell at someone, or kick something. But instead, Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Too much emotion was dangerous. He was going to rewrite the paper and get the assignment over with. Then he would be finished with Hermione, and he continue trying to bring life back to normal.
. . .
That same evening, Hermione was in the middle of ranting to Harry and Ron about how irritating she found Draco Malfoy when she looked up to find most of the Gryffindor common room staring at her.
"What?"
"Hermione," said Fred quietly "we think he's pretty awful too, but you were going on about his looks."
"Yeah," George chimed in "and in a kind of creepy way, like you thought he was good looking and that bugged you."
"He is not good looking!" she almost shouted. "He has stupid hair and stupid eyes and stupid cheekbones and he's all the wrong height and what are you laughing at?"
"It's okay, Hermione." George could barely speak. "We aren't really laughing at you. Much. But... 'stupid cheekbones'? What on earth was in that potion he gave you?"
"Actually, I think he is kinda good looking, if you like that tall, blond, broody look," Ginny put in.
"Ginny!" Harry looked at his girlfriend, scandalized.
"Well, I didn't say I liked it, just that he's not all things hideous," she said defensively.
"I for one don't think he's at all attractive," Hermione said hotly. "I think he's irritating and prejudiced and stupid and frustrating and I really, really don't want to talk about him anymore."
"Okay, Mione," said Harry placatingly. "Why don't we move on to something more interesting. Like Crabbe's new found friendship with Ron."
Ron groaned, looking up from the book he was studying. "That I really don't want to talk about. Especially the part where I was actually getting along with him. You can't understand how weird that was, having a civil conversation with the big dolt. You won't be laughing when Goyle finally gets his potion right, Harry. It's really odd to actually be getting along with the Slytherins."
"I don't know," piped up Neville. "I think it's good, actually. I had a long chat with Pansy today while we were working on our paper and it turns out that her parents are just as intimidating as my grandmother, if not worse. I mean they treat her pretty badly. I guess maybe that's why she's so nasty."
"Geez," said Fred. "This is turning out to be some experiment. Gryffindors feeling sympathy for Slytherins, what's next? Veelas hanging out with Giants? Dementors chatting up girls at the pub? Too weird."
"Well, I agree with Neville," Lavender put in. "We never really thought of the Slytherins as people, because they're where all the Death Eaters came from. But not all of them are bad, are they? I had a great conversation with my partner. Just normal girl talk, like I'd have with anyone here. And as weird as that might have been, I'm glad, because I never would have spent time with her otherwise."
"Yeah well, I think they're probably all just under the influence of the potion. They'll go back to being horrid as soon as we get the normalizing potion," Ron said.
"I don't think so," Lavender argued. "I think that the only thing the potion's doing is making us give up the preconceptions that make us dislike these people. I don't think that the chat I had Regina would have been any different without the potion, except that we never would have had it because we each assumed that there was nothing Slytherins and Gryffindors could talk about. And I hope that even after the potion goes away she and I can still talk. Maybe I'm too optimistic, but it would be nice."
"I doubt that Crabbe and I will ever have a conversation after the potion goes away," Ron said gloomily. "I figure the guy's about two steps away from becoming a Death Eater like his dad."
"Oh my God, Ron, did he say that?" Ginny asked, shocked.
"No, but it seemed a fair assumption. It wasn't a big topic of conversation, but even though he was being friendly to me, he still made some pretty nasty anti-Muggle comments and he almost called You Know Who 'The Dark Lord.' I was pretty freaked out, let me tell you."
"Yeah, I'd guess so," said Neville. "But Pansy didn't make any kind of remarks like that to me, and we even discussed the whole uprising and stuff."
"Well, maybe her parents aren't part of that crowd," said Harry reasonably. "I mean, not all Slytherins are Death Eaters. Not then, not now. Just because most of them came from that house doesn't mean they're all bad. And You Know Who's followers did come from other houses as well. Even ours."
There was a general outcry against that remark, but Harry continued.
"It's true, and I suppose that this is some sort of lesson from the teachers about tolerance. I still don't trust most of them, but I figure that Lavender's got a point. Most of the Slytherins probably aren't evil. They might even be pretty normal like us, meaner maybe, but not truly evil. I wonder if we'll get extra points for figuring out the point of the experiment?" He grinned.
"Sure, Harry," Ron snorted. "You feel free to ask Snape why he's messing with our heads. I think I'd like to try passing Potions this year."
. . .
But the conversation in the Common Room did not go unnoticed by the faculty. It was reported back to Snape and McGonagall by the students who had been listening for them, and the professors were eagerly awaiting reports from the other house involved in the experiment. Unfortunately, the atmosphere in Slytherin house was not as receptive to the few students who tried to put forward the ideas Lavender and Neville had brought up. Every attempt to broach the subject was shot down by Draco, Crabbe, or Goyle. The other students eventually began talking amongst themselves, away from the 'triumvirate' as Blaise named them.
"Perhaps it's true what people said about their dads being Death Eaters," he said quietly to Pansy.
"Oh, I really hope not. But it's kinda making sense now, isn't it? If they are so determined to stick with the whole idea, it doesn't look good, does it?" she asked. "But what if they're right with all their talk of You Know Who coming back. I mean, what's going to happen then?"
"Well, I don't really know, Pansy," her friend Regina replied. "But I'm not going to fight on their side. My parents told me about those days and it sounded terrifying. I really don't think that I want to be on the same side of people who torture other people for fun. I agree that some people are meant to be in charge, like Draco says, but I don't think it should be a bunch of psychos and sadists."
"I agree with Regina," Blaise put in. "I think that we can rise to the top without having to join forces with a bunch of sickos who just want to kill everyone who gets in their way. What if one day they decided that I was in their way? It doesn't sound like You Know Who would really care that much."
"But this doesn't make the snots over at Gryffindor any less annoying," Pansy argued. "I still think that they're way to high on themselves."
"Well, maybe they're snobs, Panse, but I think that some of them are perfectly nice. I had a great time with Lavender and Parvati this afternoon, and you can't say that was the potion because I didn't share potion with Parvati," Regina pointed out.
"I suppose. And I've been getting along with Neville, I'll admit. But that Potter kid and his friends, they annoy me."
"Well, yeah, of course. They're the center of attention, Panse," Blaise said with a smile, "which is where you'd rather be. Most of them are really okay. I've been getting along fine with Dean. He explained a Muggle game called football - seems rather dull compared to Quidditch but there were some pretty funny bits, the way he described it."
"Yeah, they really aren't all as bad as Potty and his pals," Regina said. "Panse, you should really come hang out with Parvati and Lav and me tomorrow. They have some great cosmetic charms that I want to try, and I know that you've been looking for a lipstick enchantment. I think Lavender has one you'd love."