Chapter 5
It was clear that the problem of how to handle Malfoy's betrayal would require more than just a single night of satisfying imaginings.
Hermione had woken the next morning refreshed, thoughts of Malfoy invading her mind right off. She had slept through breakfast and woken with only enough time to get dressed and head to class.
As she walked to her first class, she began to brainstorm how she'd handle Malfoy. As much as she'd love to dunk his head in something Neville concocted she realized that it was an incredibly short-sighted plan. Not only would it be breaking the first rule of being in Slytherin, but it would inevitably lead to his retaliation. She wasn't going to spend the next seven years trading blows with Malfoy; if she even made it through those seven years without managing to get killed or, worse, expelled.
No, her next move would require a little bit more strategic thinking. Her thoughts were brought to a halt as she entered the Potions classroom. Potter and Weasley hurried in right behind her.
She caught Malfoy watching her and she realized that it appeared as though she and the two Gryffindors had entered the room together. He narrowed his eyes and she returned his glare.
She took her place up front next to Daphne Greengrass, examining the board where Professor Snape had put up their potion instructions for the day and just below that, the requirements for the essay that would be due next week.
Professor Snape flourished his hand, "Begin," he said simply.
Daphne assembled the ingredients as Hermione began to prep them. She cut, crushed, and snipped, her fingers moving deftly as she made quick work of the potion's components.
Her mind wandered as she worked, too preoccupied with the previous night to stay focused on her present task. Luckily, years of her mother's insistence on helping her in the kitchen gave her the experience that allowed her to perform the prep on autopilot without risking the quality of her work.
The discovery of the three-headed dog, while equally fascinating and horrifying, was taking a backseat to her problem with Malfoy.
Sure, she could continue doing what she had been doing, merely trading insults, but something told her that this approach would just continue to isolate herself from her fellow Slytherins. She didn't know much about Draco's background, but she gathered from his constant mentioning of his father that the Malfoy's we're a big name in the wizarding world, and names seemed to carry weight within Slytherin. Needling Malfoy was just pitting herself against the wizarding equivalent of royalty.
"Hermione," Daphne's voice broke through her thoughts.
"Hmm," she said absentmindedly.
"Were you planning on actually brewing a potion or just continue cutting until there's nothing but fine dust left?" Daphne waved her hand at the ingredients laying on the table ready to go.
Hermione shook her head, "Oh, yes, of course. Sorry, I get lost in my head sometimes."
"I would too if my head were that big," Daphne said with a straight face.
Hermione blinked, mouth slightly open.
Then Daphne cracked a smile and winked at her, making Hermione laugh as she shoved the blonde girl gently with her shoulder.
Hermione added the ingredients to the simmering water while Daphne stirred counterclockwise five times and then clockwise for ten stirs, moving the stirring rod steadily and at a consistent speed.
Professor Snape came over and looked down his nose at their perfectly purple potion, before giving an accepting 'harumph' and walking away.
"Good lord, you'd think we were twisting his arm or something," Daphne said under her breath.
Hermione nodded in agreement.
"Well done, Mr. Malfoy. That's the perfect shade of purple."
Hermione and Daphne twisted around to watch as Professor Snape bragged on Malfoy's potion. Malfoy was smiling gloatingly, turning his sickly grin to her.
She rolled her eyes, turning back to her work.
"I'd like to twist his arm," she muttered.
She picked up the very last ingredient, hoping it didn't affect the color of their potion when she added it. She paused with her hand poised over the cauldron.
Twist his arm?
"Lost in that big head of yours again, Hermione?"
Hermione smiled and shook her head, dropping the last ingredient into the pot, "Nope, just had an idea, that's all."
Hermione was practically skipping the rest of the day, earning her disconcerted looks from Malfoy who probably realized that her being happy didn't bode well for him.
Professor Snape's reluctance at affording her and Daphne any sort of praise for their work in his class had given her the seeds of an idea for dealing with Malfoy. Her idea was a rather simple one, so it hadn't taken long to iron out the details. With the last class dismissed and everyone headed for dinner, she was ready to put her plan into action.
Malfoy was already sitting at the Slytherin table, surrounded by students of every year. Perfect.
She strode over to where he was sitting and rested her hands on his shoulder, making him jump.
"What the hell, Granger!"
She put her lips against his ear, "I'd stay sitting right there if I were you, Malfoy." She kept her voice low so only he could hear her.
She smiled at those who had taken notice of her.
"Your little trap last night was brilliant, I'll give you that, but it was really stupid."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Granger," he said flatly.
"No? Well, let me refresh your memory. You challenged two Gryffindors to a duel yesterday and then proceeded to tip-off Filch so that they would get caught. But that's not even the best part. You also allowed your fellow Slytherin to get caught up in it. I don't think our housemates would be too happy about that."
She felt the corner of his mouth pull up in a smirk. "That's where you're wrong, Granger. No one considers you a Slytherin. They won't care."
"Hmm, yeah, you're probably right. I guess they also might not care that you chickened out on that duel and made all Slytherins look like cowards."
He gritted his teeth. "I did not."
"Well, that's not what Potter and Weasley are saying. Two Gryffindors bashing a Slytherin's name? Doesn't look good does it?"
Malfoy sat silently for a moment. "What do you want?"
"Back off. Stop calling me a mudblood and start treating me like the Slytherin I am, or I'll go talk to Pucey about this rumor I've overheard making its rounds through the Gryffindor House."
"And what's to stop those rumors from making their way to his ears anyway?"
"I'll shut them down."
He turned his head slightly to look at her out of the corner of his eye. "You?"
"Me."
He flexed his fingers against the table. "Fine, Granger. Now get away from me," he said as he shrugged her hands off his shoulders.
Her smile widened, "Thank you so much, Draco," she said this last bit loud enough that everyone around could hear and then kissed him quickly on the cheek, earning some catcalls from Nott and Zabini. Malfoy blushed scarlet.
All the Slytherins watched her as she continued down the table, trying to figure out what just happened between the two of them.
Try to get out of that one, Malfoy. Hermione loaded her plate with food, happier than she had been in a long time. She began to script her letter home.
Well, mum, school's going great!
The following weeks went by in a blur. Malfoy had grudgingly left her alone, dropping the mudblood slur when he was forced to talk to her, slowly allowing some of the other first-years to warm up to her without the constant fear of his ridicule hanging over them. Pansy was among the few that her plan had pushed further away. She'd been front and center for Hermione's assault of her beloved and she didn't look like she was ever going to get over it.
The upperclassman had adjusted to her presence among them by simply ignoring her whenever possible, but her consistent earning of points that allowed them to take the lead for the House Cup meant that they were undecided on what to make of her.
On Halloween morning Hermione entered the Slytherin Common Room, gasping at the sight that lay before her. The entire room was decorated with spiders crawling along the walls, cobwebs that seemed to contain the bodies of people wrapped in the gossamer thread, and little jack-o-lanterns that made faces at you as you walked by.
She screamed as someone rose up out of the ground in front of her, covered in a tattered gray cloak.
A boy she recognized as a second-year had torn off the hood, his face painted to look like a skeleton. He smiled at her, "Happy Halloween, Granger."
She let out a small laugh before moving out of the way so he could scare the next person to dare and enter the haunted house that the communal room had become.
"We Slytherins really get into Halloween."
Hemione stifled a scream as Pucey appeared next to her.
"Whoah, Granger, relax," he chuckled. "Nerves of steel you've got there."
She cleared her throat, embarrassed, "Yes, well, I was just taken by surprise is all."
Pucey shook his head at her before walking away.
Hermione found out that the Slytherin's love for Halloween extended beyond the Common Room. In their Defense Against the Dark Arts class, a sixth year Slytherin had hidden under Professor Quirrell's desk and had burst out dressed as a werewolf. Quirrel had let out a frightened squeak and fainted, giving the Slytherins and Ravenclaws a free period.
Hermione didn't think that anyone would try pulling a prank in Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall's reputation for not putting up with any nonsense.
But halfway through the class, something fell from the ceiling landing in front of Tracey Davis and Pansy Parkinson, who both proceeded to scream when they saw that it was a bloody corpse.
Professor McGonagall's attempts to calm the girls and stop everyone else from laughing was negated by the fact that she couldn't keep a small smile from creeping onto her face.
By the time they reached their last class of the day, Charms, Hermione was on edge. So far she hadn't made a fool of herself, but it was only a matter of time.
The lesson they were learning was easy enough, but Nott, the one Professor Flitwick had paired her with, wouldn't stop pestering her.
"How come Malfoy got a kiss on the cheek, Granger?"
She tried to ignore him as she practiced her wand movement.
"What did he do? Whatever it is, I'll do it."
"Nott, I'm trying to concentrate. Unless you feel like being leviosaed to the ceiling I suggest you shut up."
"I mean, it's been a couple months now and no second kiss, so it couldn't have been because you fancy him. So, what was it?"
Hermione flicked her wand at Nott, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Nott slowly began to rise out of his chair, rising six feet above the desks before stopping.
Professor Flitwick clapped enthusiastically. "Well, done Miss Granger! Ten points to Slytherin. But let's stick with the feather next time, eh?"
"Yes, sir," Hermione replied.
"All right, fair enough, Granger," Nott said. "Now let me down."
Hermione smiled and Nott realized a second too late that he'd made a mistake. Hermione quickly dropped the tip of her wand and Nott let out a strangled yell as he fell crashing back to the floor.
She knelt down, "Aww, do you need me to kiss that better?"
Nott smiled up at her through a tangle of limbs. "Would you?"
The Slytherin pranking continued in the halls, students dashing in and out of cover, trying to make it safely back to Common Rooms before heading to the Halloween feast.
The infamous Weasley twins had joined in on the fun and soon the pranking took a turn for the disastrous, many students having to be escorted to the Hospital Wing.
Hermione entered the Great Hall, the decorations not nearly as creepy as the Slytherin Common Room.
She joined Daphne and Millicent at the table, laughing at all the pranks they'd witnessed and eagerly listening to stories told about ones they hadn't.
The feast was in full swing when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face.
Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll — in the dungeons — thought you ought to know."
He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.
All heads swiveled to the Slytherin table.
"What? It wasn't us," an older Slytherin said as a response to the accusatory glances.
After a delayed silence there was a sudden uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.
"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
The Slytherins rose from their table but Pucey stopped them. "Whoa, hang on a moment."
He looked up to the staff table, gesturing at Professor Snape. The Potions Master swept down the Hall to meet him. "What is it, Mr. Pucey? I don't have time to waste here."
"Sir, Professor Quirrell just got done saying the troll is in the dungeons. I don't think I need to remind you that so is the Slytherin dormitories. Would you like us to tiptoe around it on our way or…,"
He left the question open.
Snape clapped the boy on the shoulder. "No, of course not. Quick thinking, Mr. Pucey. Lead everyone to the library and have the older students bar the doors. Go."
Pucey nodded, "This way, everyone! On me! To the library!"
No matter what she had heard Delilah say to Pucey about what everyone thought of him, it was plain to see that they all trusted him enough to follow him without question.
Hermione hurried along with everyone else, trying to figure out why there would be a troll in the dungeons.
She watched as the teachers headed to the dungeons while all the students, excluding the Slytherins, headed for their dorms.
Pucey walked quickly, looking back every once in a while to make sure everyone was following.
A nasty smell came wafting down the corridor and Hermione nearly gagged from the stench. The other Slytherins reacted similarly. Suddenly, Pucey stopped dead in his tracks. In front of him, a large hideous creature came stomping toward them dragging a club. Hermione recognized it from a picture on her DADA book; it was the troll.
Its sudden appearance had shocked the Slytherins and none of them made a sound.
"No one make a sound, understand? Slowly back up and make your way to the dorms. Delilah, make sure they get there and stay there. When I tell you to, run," Pucey said, just loud enough for everyone to hear.
Someone in the group let out a small whimper, but no other sound but their breathing could be heard.
The troll had stopped, seeing them all moving from him. It tilted its head and squinted its eyes.
They had managed put a good distance between themselves and it when Pucey yelled, "Run!"
Pucey stood his ground, a couple of the other older Prefects standing beside him as the younger students made a break for it. The sudden loud noise angered the troll and it bellowed, moving forward and swinging its club.
The three students raised their wands, shooting off a few quick spells aimed at its eyes, before they had to duck out of the way as the club whistled over their heads. They tried again, but the target area was so small that they missed, their spells merely bouncing off its head. The club came swinging back now and they didn't move quickly enough to avoid its blow. The club smashed into them and they went flying, crashing into the wall.
Hermione had been watching all of this as she tried to run with the crush of students and she hadn't been the only one.
Somewhere to her right, she heard a scream.
"Adrian!"
Delilah stopped retreating and ran back toward the troll, wand raised. Hermione had stopped as well, transfixed by what was going on.
The troll was still swinging the club and before too long Delilah would run right into its path. They had to get rid of that club.
Hermione ran after her. As she got closer she yelled the only spell that came to mind.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Her spell hit the club, and the large weapon began to rise, taking the troll with it. The troll was thoroughly confused at this point, wrapping both of his hands around the handle of the club and trying to drag it back down as its legs dangled above the ground.
Hermione strained as the added weight of the troll took its toll on her strength. Delilah, seeing her struggle, added her strength to Hermione's. "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The two girls stood in the corridor, forcing the club to stay up. At last, they heard running behind them and managed to look over their shoulders to see the teachers headed their way.
The girls dropped their wands by their sides in exhaustion and the troll slammed back down to the floor, the club slamming into his face as he landed. It did not get back up.
"It was supposed to be in the dungeons!"
Snape was the first teacher to reach them and he was livid. He hurried over to the four unconscious Slytherins, trying to examine their wounds.
He stood swiftly. "I need to get them to the infirmary. I think there may be some internal injuries."
Dumbledore nodded, "Of course, Severus. Professor Quirrell, would you please take care of the troll? Minerva, would you assist Severus and me with getting these students to the infirmary?"
Quirrell nodded.
"Of course, Albus," Minerva said.
"Sir, what about us," Delilah asked Snape.
He eyed them, raising a single eyebrow. "Go back to your rooms, of course."
Delilah and Hermione walked back to the dorms in silence. When they reached the hidden door, Delilah turned to Hermione and simply said, "Thank you," before entering the Common Room and disappearing.
It may have been a simple thanks, but coming from a Slytherin, it was the highest form of praise. Hermione stood in the empty cellar for a moment to compose herself. It wouldn't do to enter the house of horrors with a silly grin plastered on her face.
