After the train had halted, Hermione sauntered out of her compartment and
ignored the jibes and whispered comments about what had just transpired
between her and Draco. Laughing silently, she realized that by the time
the banquet concluded how outrageous the speculations would be. Assured in
her knowledge that Ginny would inform her of the rumors tomorrow at
breakfast, Hermione entered the Great Hall and seated herself at the
Gryffindor table.
Professor McGonagall greeted Hermione with a curt smile and approving glance, as contradicting as the two seemed. Grateful for a bit of companionship, Hermione responded with a warm smile.
She had opened her mouth to inquire about her teacher's summer when Ron's voice interrupted her. "'Oy, Hermione," he said jauntily. "Can you believe how many first years there are?" He groaned. "We'll never get to eat."
"There's no more than any other year," commented Ginny. "There just appear to be more cause you're hungry."
"Have you two gone mad?" asked Hermione, utterly confused. "Not an hour ago, we had a shouting match, resulting in my igniting a chair."
"Yes, that was a neat trick," said Harry brightly, plopping down next to her. "Do show me how to do that. I can only inflate things or make them explode."
"You're missing my point. We just had a huge row and now we're all best friends?"
"Herm, herm, herm," sighed Ron. "We're buddies! We're a trio!" He gave her a friendly smile. "Where would Harry and I be without you?"
"Probably still in first year Potions, that's for sure," Hermione snapped.
"And you'd still be trapped in a bathroom, pursued by a troll!" responded Harry flippantly. "See, we all need each other. We're all.co-dependent."
"Wow, Harry. Big word," said Hermione dryly.
"Aw, come on," urged Ron. "It was just a quarrel. If it means that much, Harry and I will stop asking you for homework help."
Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I don't mind helping you, I just have a problem with you asking me to do the homework while you gossip about how Finland's Quidditch match against Venezuela resulted."
"How did that end?" asked Harry to Ron.
"Venezuela won, 360 to 110. Caught the snitch in twenty minutes flat," reported Ron.
"Great, now I owe Bill twenty Knuts," sighed Harry.
Suddenly, Hermione realized the Great Hall was quiet. "The Sorting will begin now!" announced Professor McGonagall, regarding the Gryffindor table suspiciously. "Alfreda, Lorenzo!"
Hermione resigned herself to slumping in her chair, not making eye contact with either boy on her sides.
The Gryffindor table was far from silent, yet it lacked it's usual friendly bickering from the Golden Three. Hermione was cordial enough, yet cold and indifferent to their questions.
Ginny was no source of comfort to her either-still hurt by Harry's preference to Dementia, she had resolved to chatting up as many eligible Gryffindor men as possible. Harry didn't notice.
Hermione spent the feast speaking amicably to Nearly Headless Nick about French history and why they had never won a war.
"You forget the Hundred Years' War," called Sir Nick triumphantly.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "The French had to result to divine intervention to even get a chance and they still lost."
"The English left their soil, no?"
As Hermione opened her mouth to point out his errors in military strategy, Professor Snape approached.
"As fascinating as this conversation may be," he drawled in his usual monotonous way, "Miss Granger is needed in the Conference Room. Something about living arrangements."
He turned his back, leaving Hermione with nothing to call out. "I don't know where the Conference Room is," she sighed miserably.
"I'll take you," declared Sir Nicholas, floating upwards. Hermione made her excuses to the table (who explicitly ignored her) and followed the ghost to the room.
Once situated in the conference room, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall greeted her pleasantly. Draco Malfoy, Ernie and Padma stood at attention, looking anxious.
"Did I miss something?" asked Hermione in confusion.
"Only that Miss.Padma here is dismissed from her position." Professor McGonagall offered Padma no sympathy as the poor girl dissolved into a flood of tears. "The circumstances are none of your concern, but we are in an interesting predicament," she continued. "Padma will be replaced by Damien McGinty, who is as you can imagine, male."
"So it would appear that we have two dormitories, four bedrooms, one common room, two bathrooms, three young men and one young woman," commented Dumbledore.
"You just said there are four bedrooms. How is this a problem?" inquired Hermione, fearing his answer."
"Each pair of rooms is connected to an adjoining bath and study area," explained Prof. McGonagall.
"The bath and study area aren't adjoining," explained Dumbledore. "It's the bedrooms that adjoin." He laughed at his own strange joke- like.thing.
"Originally, you and Padma would share a dormitory. A moment ago, we drew names out of a hat to chose the living assignments."
"And the results were?" questioned Hermione, again fearing the response.
"Damien and I are together," said Ernie in a small voice.
"And I am with.."
"Mr. Malfoy," answered Dumbledore. "So we want to make sure you two play nice this year, set a good example for the children, promote intra- school unity and the like."
"I'm sure we will have no problems," lied Hermione, mentally swearing. How could she continue her midnight ramblings and meetings with Draco in the adjoining room? Padma she could easily elude-Padma was a fool. But Draco Malfoy was anything but a fool and could easily have her sentenced to Azkaban for eternity.
"We spent forty-five minutes in a train compartment together, Mal- excuse me, Draco," said Hermione pleasantly. "I'm sure we can last a year."
Draco said nothing loud enough to be deciphered, although Hermione though she caught the words "filthy slime bucket worm." Dumbledore looked sharply at the boy, who smiled charmingly. "I look forward to working with all of you, no matter what Wizarding heritage you come from," he commented impassively.
Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Splendid. Now scurry on to your rooms and get a good night's sleep." He turned to exit. "Goodnight, Minerva."
"Evening, Headmaster," she said abruptly. "You are dismissed. Hermione-" she beckoned as the four students exited.
"Yes?" asked Hermione soullessly (pardon the irony).
"Tomorrow at 9:30 begins Advanced Transfiguration. Please tell those in your tower that wands are not required." Professor McGonagall held up a hand to ignore Hermione's unspoken questions. "Spare me your flood of inquiries, you'll find out in the morning. Goodnight, Miss Granger."
Hermione exited the room and began the long, slow climb to her new quarters. Catching up with Ernie, she breathlessly questioned him about Padma. "Why was she dismissed? Were her grades unsatisfactory?"
Ernie blushed. "Let's just say that "WhichWitchXXX" took some.compromising pictures of her. When Snape informed Dumbledore."
"How did Snape find out?" asked Hermione.
"I never thought to ask," protested Ernie.
"Well, here we are," she announced after some more climbing. "Dorm, sweet Dorm."
"I wish you luck." Ernie turned to the left while Hermione opened her door and was greeted by a frowning Malfoy.
"Touch anything of mine and I will kill you," he gritted through his teeth.
Hermione smiled kindly at his owl. "I think we know which one is the spoiled only child here, don't we?"
Malfoy let out an enraged howl and stormed out of the study area. "I'll just go the other way!" she called to him and opened the door to her bedroom.
(Author's Note: I was recently rereading my original storyline when I realized what a different path this story has taken. The original was a comic piece that ended with Harry being ingested by a rabid and ravenous flock of flamingos and with Ron going mad with repressed sexual feelings. Testosterone poisoning, I called it. Just wanted to point out all that could happen in five months. Ah well, happy third night of Kwanzaa (if you celebrate it) and joyous New Year.)
Professor McGonagall greeted Hermione with a curt smile and approving glance, as contradicting as the two seemed. Grateful for a bit of companionship, Hermione responded with a warm smile.
She had opened her mouth to inquire about her teacher's summer when Ron's voice interrupted her. "'Oy, Hermione," he said jauntily. "Can you believe how many first years there are?" He groaned. "We'll never get to eat."
"There's no more than any other year," commented Ginny. "There just appear to be more cause you're hungry."
"Have you two gone mad?" asked Hermione, utterly confused. "Not an hour ago, we had a shouting match, resulting in my igniting a chair."
"Yes, that was a neat trick," said Harry brightly, plopping down next to her. "Do show me how to do that. I can only inflate things or make them explode."
"You're missing my point. We just had a huge row and now we're all best friends?"
"Herm, herm, herm," sighed Ron. "We're buddies! We're a trio!" He gave her a friendly smile. "Where would Harry and I be without you?"
"Probably still in first year Potions, that's for sure," Hermione snapped.
"And you'd still be trapped in a bathroom, pursued by a troll!" responded Harry flippantly. "See, we all need each other. We're all.co-dependent."
"Wow, Harry. Big word," said Hermione dryly.
"Aw, come on," urged Ron. "It was just a quarrel. If it means that much, Harry and I will stop asking you for homework help."
Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I don't mind helping you, I just have a problem with you asking me to do the homework while you gossip about how Finland's Quidditch match against Venezuela resulted."
"How did that end?" asked Harry to Ron.
"Venezuela won, 360 to 110. Caught the snitch in twenty minutes flat," reported Ron.
"Great, now I owe Bill twenty Knuts," sighed Harry.
Suddenly, Hermione realized the Great Hall was quiet. "The Sorting will begin now!" announced Professor McGonagall, regarding the Gryffindor table suspiciously. "Alfreda, Lorenzo!"
Hermione resigned herself to slumping in her chair, not making eye contact with either boy on her sides.
The Gryffindor table was far from silent, yet it lacked it's usual friendly bickering from the Golden Three. Hermione was cordial enough, yet cold and indifferent to their questions.
Ginny was no source of comfort to her either-still hurt by Harry's preference to Dementia, she had resolved to chatting up as many eligible Gryffindor men as possible. Harry didn't notice.
Hermione spent the feast speaking amicably to Nearly Headless Nick about French history and why they had never won a war.
"You forget the Hundred Years' War," called Sir Nick triumphantly.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "The French had to result to divine intervention to even get a chance and they still lost."
"The English left their soil, no?"
As Hermione opened her mouth to point out his errors in military strategy, Professor Snape approached.
"As fascinating as this conversation may be," he drawled in his usual monotonous way, "Miss Granger is needed in the Conference Room. Something about living arrangements."
He turned his back, leaving Hermione with nothing to call out. "I don't know where the Conference Room is," she sighed miserably.
"I'll take you," declared Sir Nicholas, floating upwards. Hermione made her excuses to the table (who explicitly ignored her) and followed the ghost to the room.
Once situated in the conference room, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall greeted her pleasantly. Draco Malfoy, Ernie and Padma stood at attention, looking anxious.
"Did I miss something?" asked Hermione in confusion.
"Only that Miss.Padma here is dismissed from her position." Professor McGonagall offered Padma no sympathy as the poor girl dissolved into a flood of tears. "The circumstances are none of your concern, but we are in an interesting predicament," she continued. "Padma will be replaced by Damien McGinty, who is as you can imagine, male."
"So it would appear that we have two dormitories, four bedrooms, one common room, two bathrooms, three young men and one young woman," commented Dumbledore.
"You just said there are four bedrooms. How is this a problem?" inquired Hermione, fearing his answer."
"Each pair of rooms is connected to an adjoining bath and study area," explained Prof. McGonagall.
"The bath and study area aren't adjoining," explained Dumbledore. "It's the bedrooms that adjoin." He laughed at his own strange joke- like.thing.
"Originally, you and Padma would share a dormitory. A moment ago, we drew names out of a hat to chose the living assignments."
"And the results were?" questioned Hermione, again fearing the response.
"Damien and I are together," said Ernie in a small voice.
"And I am with.."
"Mr. Malfoy," answered Dumbledore. "So we want to make sure you two play nice this year, set a good example for the children, promote intra- school unity and the like."
"I'm sure we will have no problems," lied Hermione, mentally swearing. How could she continue her midnight ramblings and meetings with Draco in the adjoining room? Padma she could easily elude-Padma was a fool. But Draco Malfoy was anything but a fool and could easily have her sentenced to Azkaban for eternity.
"We spent forty-five minutes in a train compartment together, Mal- excuse me, Draco," said Hermione pleasantly. "I'm sure we can last a year."
Draco said nothing loud enough to be deciphered, although Hermione though she caught the words "filthy slime bucket worm." Dumbledore looked sharply at the boy, who smiled charmingly. "I look forward to working with all of you, no matter what Wizarding heritage you come from," he commented impassively.
Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Splendid. Now scurry on to your rooms and get a good night's sleep." He turned to exit. "Goodnight, Minerva."
"Evening, Headmaster," she said abruptly. "You are dismissed. Hermione-" she beckoned as the four students exited.
"Yes?" asked Hermione soullessly (pardon the irony).
"Tomorrow at 9:30 begins Advanced Transfiguration. Please tell those in your tower that wands are not required." Professor McGonagall held up a hand to ignore Hermione's unspoken questions. "Spare me your flood of inquiries, you'll find out in the morning. Goodnight, Miss Granger."
Hermione exited the room and began the long, slow climb to her new quarters. Catching up with Ernie, she breathlessly questioned him about Padma. "Why was she dismissed? Were her grades unsatisfactory?"
Ernie blushed. "Let's just say that "WhichWitchXXX" took some.compromising pictures of her. When Snape informed Dumbledore."
"How did Snape find out?" asked Hermione.
"I never thought to ask," protested Ernie.
"Well, here we are," she announced after some more climbing. "Dorm, sweet Dorm."
"I wish you luck." Ernie turned to the left while Hermione opened her door and was greeted by a frowning Malfoy.
"Touch anything of mine and I will kill you," he gritted through his teeth.
Hermione smiled kindly at his owl. "I think we know which one is the spoiled only child here, don't we?"
Malfoy let out an enraged howl and stormed out of the study area. "I'll just go the other way!" she called to him and opened the door to her bedroom.
(Author's Note: I was recently rereading my original storyline when I realized what a different path this story has taken. The original was a comic piece that ended with Harry being ingested by a rabid and ravenous flock of flamingos and with Ron going mad with repressed sexual feelings. Testosterone poisoning, I called it. Just wanted to point out all that could happen in five months. Ah well, happy third night of Kwanzaa (if you celebrate it) and joyous New Year.)