[AN: Zoe's made up, and I guess you could call her mine. The others aren't (unfortunately). Any simularities betweens persons living or dead is purely... (see the Harry Potter books for more, opposite of the dedications page). Sorry I didn't update for so long, but I'll try to have one out at least once a week from now on. Keep reading and reviewing!]
The day dawned bright and early. Though Hermione still felt that many things in her life was 'weird', and her knowledge (and lack of it) sometimes stopped her dead, she couldn't recall the affects of the mirror. Yes, she still often had silent arguments with herself (Harry, that jerk, is my friend! No, he's not a jerk! What? Of course he is! God, that stupid nightmare about being Mr. I'm-so-great-because-I'm-the-reason-my-mother-died's (well, it's true!) best bud (well, after Weasely) has me all confused!), she seemed to be dealing with the strangeness rather well... that is, she appeared to be.
She quickly dressed, only to freeze rather suddenly. Though the colours on her clothes had magically changed, she found a crumpled piece of parchment – yesterday's homework. At a first glace, it seemed to be just that – homework. However, it wasn't that simple. Her name read 'Mione', the date was correct, but, stunningly, she'd written that she was in Gryffindor. Why would she ever want to be considered a Gryffindor, to busy about being brave and noble to push ahead (alive, of course, not as a ghost) in life? Thoroughly surprised by the G-house, she rapidly changed it, snapping at people when they asked, "You're doing homework? You?"
Not long after, fully clothed and fresh from her shower, she slid down the banister, sailing off and making a two-point landing, even it was a bit ungraceful. Draco, already there, gave a very loud and very sarcastic cheer, and bowed low. Hermione's roaming eyes fell upon the giggling third year, and, with a grin, and cast a spell that would make his hair stay standing straight up for the next half hour. The rest of the crowd chose to keep their laughing secret after that as Hermione, using a tone she's expect some prissy princess might have used, "Oh, you need not bow in such a way, Mr. Malfoy. You may kiss my feet instead."
"What?" spluttered the blond boy, mocking complete scorn. "Your feet? Not in your dreams, Mudblood!"
Hermione raised her wand. "Hah, don't think so! My parents are as pure as they come, Mr. Malfoy, and if you don't get to know that soon..."
Draco gave Hermione a gentle shove. "Come off it, Mione. Can't take a joke?"
Tossing her head back, Hermione sauntered to the door. Just before she was out of site, however, she paused and called back, "Sure I can, GG." Obviously, this was a well-known insult-slash-joke among the house members (and there was more to it that what you might think), who moaned appreciatively. One of them, a lowly first year with an obsession for pointing out when someone is insulted, loudly informed the room that that was a 'oooh, burrrrrn!', which earned him pink hair from a seventh year.
Draco, seething with fake, just-for-fun anger, growled, "Excuse me while I kill her," and swept out after his friend, wand raised in a 'threatening' manner. But when he caught up, the two simply stuck their tongues out at each other, shared a quick laugh, and carried on to breakfast.
Completely immersed in conversation, Hermione at first made as though to sit at the table she'd been sitting every day spare this one, for old habits die hard. Draco cast her a strange look, and inquired quietly, "Have you got a plan? Why didn't you tell me about it?"
Hermione, realizing this mistake and unable to fathom what she'd been thinking of, heading to the wrong table, made up a hasty excuse of, "Uh, yeah, sorta. But, I – it won't work. People aren't in their, um, typical places. Come on, lets go eat." And with that, she proceeded to guide him to their own table, on the other side of the room.
"Woah, you've memorized their usual places?" asked Draco as he was pushed along. "I'm impressed! Maybe we can go through with it tomorrow!"
Though glad that Draco hadn't thought it strange that she seemed to be saying things a Slytherin rarely would, Hermione, without any plan in mind whatsoever, hastily muttered some lame excuse like, "Oh, no, that won't work. It had to be today. I heard it was, um... someone's birthday and I planned to, you know, totally ruin it. I don't know who it is, though. I was hoping he'd get a present by post –" she waved her hand vaguely at the departing owls "- but I guess the party must have been in the common room. Oh, look, there's Zoe." The lies had slipped surprisingly well off Hermione's tongue, for her knew character often made up lies like these. Not big ones, normally – just little fibs to cover up any mistakes she made.
"Zoe?" Draco looks thoroughly confused with the name and the sudden change in subject. "Who the hell is Zoe?"
"Haven't you noticed? She's that third year, the short one with longish brown hair? Man, you are hopeless, she's been dropping hints everywhere!" Hermione pointed at a large group of third years with no less than four girls who fit the description and two that were very close to qualifying.
"Oh. Her. Of course, her. I just ignore her, that's why I don't really know who she is..." He then shoved a large forkful of scrambled eggs in his mouth, making it clear that the subject was closed.
Hermione suppressed a grin. Here she'd made up a person out of thin air, just as an excuse to change the subject, and she'd also been very ambiguous about this 'Zoe' and why Draco should know who she was. It was rather funny the way Hermione's best bud had so readily said that he knew who Zoe was when she didn't actually exist (at least, Hermione was pretty sure there wasn't a brown-haired third year named Zoe).
The first class of the day was Potions. Professor Snape, always ready to excuse the behaviour of even the most disruptive Slytherin, set them all to work making an Aging Potion. Hermione and Draco, partners as always, thoroughly enjoyed themselves. While one kept an eye on the bubbling caldron and stirred it every twenty-eight seconds, the other was free to plot (as long as they continued to dice the pine roots, a difficult task while they did so). It was Draco who came up with the idea.
"Professor," he called, waving his hand. Professor Snape zoomed over as if Summoned (and Draco had the sneaking suspicion that he had, for Hermione was busy stuffing something into her pocket), and Draco continued. "I found this prune among the ingredients for this potion on this desk (actually, it had been hidden inside the desk, along with one more) and the instructions of the board don't call for it. If it were to fall into the potion, what would happen?"
Professor Snape, looking surprised to be standing where he was (hadn't he just been off to pick on Neville?), answered after a pause. "That would be a very bad thing indeed. Adding anything wrinkly or old to an Aging Potion will make it turn the drinker into a baby. We shall test the potions at the end of the lesson, but anyone who gets it wrong will need to visit the Hospital Wing. I only have the antidote for a correct Aging Potion in the classroom." He motioned to a caldron near his desk. "Oh, and five points to Slytherin, that was an excellent question." Off he swept, making a beeline for Neville. Draco grinned.
"Can you sneak over to Harry and Ron and drop this in their potion, Mione?" He dropped the prune into her hand and she completed the task in an instant. "Thanks. I would have, but I think they've gotten especially suspicious of me recently. Now wait 'til we test the potions."
Well, the end of class was just as Draco had planned. Each and every Slytherin had gotten their Potions right. Draco, after being an old man for six seconds, disliked it greatly, and was rather relieved that they got to drink the antidote right away instead of after everyone had tested their potions. The Slytherins, back to their regular selves, had earned their house twenty points for their success. The Gryffindors were another story.
Neville, messing up as always, had a potion about as magical as vegetable soup. The others did quite well – until Ron and Harry took through own potion.
"After you," offered Ron, and Harry took a gulp. Ron followed suit a moment later. There was a few second's silence and then...
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" Ron and Harry both screamed at the top of their lungs, their bodies shrinking rapidly as they turned into a pair of bawling babies. The Slytherins roared with laugher, along with two Gryffindors who obviously didn't like Harry and Ron as much as the others Gryffindors did.
Draco, the second prune in his hand, gave Professor Snape his best innocent look (the best he could with tears of mirth streaming down his face) and, between peals of laugher, managed, "It – wasn't – me Pro – Professor! Look!" And he showed the prune in his hand. "See? It – wasn't me!" He dropped the prune and fell into a chair like many others had already done. After all, how often did the most Gryffindor turn into a baby, his now-huge robes more like blankets than clothes?
"We'll take them the Hospital Wing!" piped up two Gryffindor girls, and, most of Gryffindor with them, carried the screaming Golden Pair off to grow up again. The Slytherins and the remaining two Gryffindors? They just remained where they were, laughing so hard it was hard to breath and acting out the scene again and again (to, of course, make the laughter last longer). Even Professor Snape chuckled, before telling the Slytherins that their 'outrageous behaviour' had lost Slytherin one whole point, which was quickly added back as a brainy first year Slytherin answered a difficult question correctly just before class ended.
All in all, Hermione and Draco found it a very satisfying day.