A/N:  There are two main topics of conversation I indulge in with my Classics buddies.  One is Classics.  That one was obvious.  The other is Harry Potter fanfiction.  We can very easily discuss these topics continuously for days on end.  Yes, the sad truth is, we are Nerds.  As such, Alix and Fliss have been haranguing me for weeks to get on the bandwagon and write one.  So here we go.

Due to my insane amounts of art coursework, I have only written the first chapter so far.  Besides, I haven't quite decided where the plot is ending up yet so any requests for romances, major angst, murders or orgies will be considered.  This fic is dedicated to Mimi and Elena=Perfection, who were my first reviewers (other than my friends), thanks you guys!  Also to Morgank who gave me my first bad review, which I, for some obscure reason, am proud of.

Fraternising as the enemy

Chapter One

'Miney!  Help!', Ron hissed frantically as he poked her in the ribs.

The fire-resistance potion he was making, instead of turning into a thin black liquid, was distinctly silvery and had started emitting peculiar squeaks.  Harry was, as ever, being a vast help and staring at the cauldron saying 'Um.' every few seconds.

            'Please!  He's already taken 30 points off us this lesson!'

            'Well if you had been paying attention at the beginning of the-'

            'If the siamese triplets would stop talking for more than two minutes perhaps they could avoid another five point deduction!  But then, I suppose we can't expect too much from them can we?'

Hermione glared furiously at Ron.  Her cauldron of course, was simmering beautifully, but yet again she was guilty by association.  In Professor Snape's eyes she was just another Gryffindor.  This was not saying much.  Looking around the classroom she could see Lavender hurriedly covering up a melted hole on her desk after turning back too late from flirting with Dean.  Neville appeared not yet to have noticed that his hat had caught fire.  Of course, Snape had chosen to overlook Crabbe and Goyle's attempts at subtly eating what looked like half a suckling pig in the back row.

By the end of the lesson there were very few black liquids on the front desk.  Most of them ranged from dark grey to an alarming shade of orange.  Ron's was now squeaking even more frantically and looked to be trying to climb back out of the sample vial.

            'Ah.  An interesting array as ever.  I believe the Gryffindors may even reach first year standards at this rate.'  Snape narrowed his eyes at the golden trio, as if daring them to give him another opportunity to deduct points.  'Slytherins, the extra credit class has been moved to the fourth dungeon this week.'

Hermione froze.  She could vaguely hear Harry and Ron laughing at the idea of the Slytherins taking extra lessons in the background, but her fists were clenched and her jaw was set in a furious line.

            'How dare he.'

            'Wha?'

            'How dare he imply that Gryffindors aren't good enough to gain extra credit.  I'll show that slimy git.

Ron was now staring at her in disbelief.

            'Herm, think about it!  Are you actually, seriously, considering spending extra hours with that man?  Of your own free will?'

But Hermione had already stormed out of the classroom without another word.

            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

Despite her jittering nerves, and many misgivings about the whole stupid idea, Hermione looked calm and collected as she entered Potions Room Four that evening.  The gathered Slytherins however, did not take her presence so lightly.

            'What's she doing here!', Pansy shrieked, dropping her hair straighteners in shock.

            'May we help you Miss Granger?  Are you perhaps lost?'

            'Oh no Professor.  I'm here for the extra credit lessons.'

Stay calm Hermione, this will work, this will work.  She crossed her fingers in her pocket and prayed.

            'The extra-'

            ''Yes Sir, I was talking to Professor McGonagall about my NEWTs and she thought it was an excellent opportunity you were giving us all,' she lied smoothly, 'She said it was really commendable that you hadn't shown any bias towards your own house.'

            Snape's lip curled in contempt.

            'You do realise that the potions we are studying are not on the syllabus Miss Granger?  Your books will not help you here.'

            'Oh well.  Then I suppose no one will be at an unfair advantage, will they Sir?'

Ha.  With all due respect, Sir; Game.  Set.  And Match.

            'Very well.  You can pair up with Mister Malfoy for today,' he turned to the pureblood brat sneering at her from the front row, 'I trust you will be hospitable to our...guest.'

Ah.  Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

            'What?'  Draco exploded at the suggestion.  'Sir please!  I'll be a Granger!  I'll have Muggle blood in my veins for a whole hour!'

Hermione glanced at the blackboard.  They were making polyjuice potion.  She smiled to herself.  Yet again, there was nothing a book couldn't help her with.

            'I'll be going out with a Weasley for pity's sake!'

            'Mister Malfoy, I would not dream of subjecting you to the humiliation of testing the potion.  Now content yourself with that and get started.'

            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

            'You look so good in the firelight Granger.'

Malfoy was bored.  He had given up on ignoring and insulting Hermione and was now attempting to embarrass her.

            'Oooh, I love the way you shred my boomslang.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him as she threw the boomslang skin in the cauldron.  It gave a loud pop and began to smoke.  Malfoy gasped.

            'Oh Granger!  You've done this before!'

            'I bloody well have not!'

            'Oh my god.  You have haven't you?  When did you do that?'

            'Pass the bicorn Malfoy.'

Hermione snatched the powder from Malfoy's hands and looked away quickly.  She couldn't afford to make mistakes like that with Snape breathing down her neck all lesson.

            'Don't change the subject Granger; this is the first interesting thing you've said all evening.  So, who did you become?'

            'I've already told you, I didn't do it.  Besides, where on earth would I do it?  These cauldrons aren't that small you know.'

            'Miss Granger, if you do not keep quiet and turn the heat down on that potion I shall be forced to advise Professor McGonagall to reconsider her misplaced faith in you.'

Hermione exhaled sharply as she jabbed her wand at the fire under the cauldron.

            'No, you're probably right,' Malfoy half whispered as he decanted the potion into vials, 'You wouldn't have the guts to try a potion that a teacher hadn't shown you.'

            'Oh you're a fine one to talk.'  Hermione yanked out one of her hairs and dropped it into the vial, where the potion settled at a bland ochre colour.  'I wasn't the one who ran off screaming in the forest, I wasn't the one who nearly cried when a hippogriff 'killed' me, hell, you'd even be scared of Neville if you didn't constantly have your heavies around you.'

Malfoy's sneer had turned into a snarl.

            'What would you know?'  He dropped one of his own hairs into the potion, which immediately turned into a shimmering gold.  Trust Malfoy to have good-looking polyjuice.  'If you're so brave,' he spat, pushing his vial towards her, 'be my guest.'

            'We aren't supposed to be drinking them Malfoy, you heard what Snape said.'

            'That would be the point Granger' Blaise Zabini added helpfully.

Hermione looked round.  Every pair of Slytherin eyes was on her.  Fantastic.

            'But we don't know if it's safe!'

            'Scared, are you?  Think you've done it wrong?'

Goddammit, why did she have to break at such low tactics?

            'Fine Malfoy.  I'll do it if you will.'

            'Are you kidding?  Why would I want to become you?'

Professor Snape cleared his throat.

            'Mister Malfoy, I would have thought you had been raised better than to present a challenge you were not willing to meet yourself.'

            'But...'

            'Consider it an opportunity to excel.  I will award you twenty points if the potion is successful.  And Miss Granger.'  Snape paused, as if to consider how to be cruel to Hermione in the fairest way possible.  'I shall give back the twenty points I have just deducted for this disruption.'

            'Well I suppose I could have fun tormenting the Gryffindors while you're in the snake pit' Malfoy smirked as he reached for Hermione's potion.

Oh well, she thought, it's only for an hour.  She picked up the vial and knocked it back without a second thought.

Hermione winced as she swallowed the Polyjuice potion.  Apparently cats didn't taste quite so bad as Malfoys.  At first the potion was sweet, but it quickly turned sour in her throat, leaving a lingering bitter aftertaste.  Her flesh crawled as the brew started to take effect, slowly transforming her from the head downwards.  She bit her lip and grabbed the desk for support as the familiar hollow pain fell through her stomach.  Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see herself gasping for breath as she felt her own skin changing colour.  As the potion's effects started to calm down a disconcerting thought struck her.  Grabbing her bag, she swore under her breath and ran out of the classroom.

            'I knew no good would come of wearing this thong...'

            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

Three things occurred to Hermione as she ran up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower.  Firstly, she was now a Slytherin and most of the Gryffindors, not least Neville, wouldn't be entirely happy with her invading their common room.  Secondly, she was pretty sure she didn't have any suitable underwear in her room.  And thirdly, perhaps most disturbingly, she was running round looking like a drag queen.  Worse, she looked like a Malfoy drag queen.  Turning around again, she was faced with herself silently laughing at the top of the stairs.

            'Haven't you forgotten something Granger?'  Draco smirked at her.

            'Don't do that Malfoy.  It really doesn't suit...me.'

            'Go and put some decent clothes on for god's sake.  My room's in the fifth dungeon in the east wing.  The password's Hemlock.'

            'Why on earth do you expect me to trust you?'

            'Granger, do you really think I'm happy with you wandering round looking like me in a skirt and a Gryffindor jumper?  Do you have any idea what that would do to my reputation?'

            'Fine.  Portrait of the Pink Lady.  Riddikulus.'

Hermione sped down the stairs past her double, silently thanking the Fates, her guardian angel and every god she could think of that she had never kept a diary.