A/N: A shorter chapter than I originally planned, but I like it the way it is. Once again, thank you, everyone. Shiegurl, this chapter is dedicated to you and your excellent work. Keep smiling!

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

An Old Friend

Hermione wandered deeper and deeper into the garden, stopping only when she could no longer make out the incessant chatter of the other guests in the hall. The air in the garden was cool and damp from the light rain earlier that evening. The clear, night sky was a beautiful shade of the darkest ebony, and the stars twinkled in time to the crickets' singing. Hermione welcomed the darkness; it provided her with relief from the superficial finery that was Narcissa Malfoy and her friends. She embraced the solitude; it was her antidote to the hypocrisy of the company in general. For Hermione, the fresh air was a welcomed change from the heavy perfumes in the Malfoy's hall. The night had been both better and worse than she had anticipated. Severus had introduced her to the rest of the guests, and Lucius had neglected to share his theory about Muggle-borns with them. As a result, the other guests had treated 'Mel' with the regard due to a Pureblood, albeit somewhat mockingly. Hermione shrugged at that, the night seemed to be a battle of ego anyway, with each guest vying for the position of top dog. However, the strength of will that she had needed to stay afloat in a sea full of opportunistic sharks had exhausted her. Severus had stepped out of the hall with Mulciber earlier, the other man muttering non-stop into the Potions master's ear. Hermione sank down onto a cold marble bench, grateful that she had been able to escape the party without anyone noticing her absence. Give me a good old-fashioned duel any day, Hermione thought wearily. It is easier than dodging the hidden knives trying to stab you in the back. Severus was right, I do not like this.

Even though Severus had finally stopped harping at her about her decision to attend the party a day ago, Hermione knew that he was not too happy about it, judging from the way he had marched stiffly away from the Hogwarts grounds that evening. He had his reasons, of course; Malfoy was a wizard with a reputation, and Hermione knew he didn't want her to be caught up with the darker activities of his 'friends'. Alas, he did not understand her eagerness to attend the party. Hermione sighed. How was she supposed to explain her interest in everything connected with the Dark Lord and his minions and still keep her real identity a secret?

Hermione raised her arms into the air, trying to stretch out the tension in her body, and stiffened. A sudden sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach and realisation sank in—she was not alone. Within seconds, Hermione had lowered her arms, and her right hand discreetly found its way over to the wand that she had hidden between the fold of her long dress. She scanned the surrounding darkness furiously, trying to locate the source of her disturbance. Minutes passed, and there was nothing. Gradually, the fear-fuelled adrenalin ceased, and Hermione allowed herself to relax slightly. However, her hand never wandered far from where her wand was hidden. Constant vigilance! A little part of Hermione shouted gleefully. Moody would have been so proud.

A sudden, loud yowl pierced through the tranquillity of the slumbering garden. Hermione's wand was out in an instant as she instinctively posed herself into a duelling stance. Her mind oddly composed despite the renewed fear coursing through her veins, Hermione advanced towards the direction of the sound as the howl gradually changed into whimpering cries. Hermione frowned; she had heard that kind of noise before. She took a quick glance at the night sky and saw that the moon was almost full. Hermione's grasp on her wand tightened and she proceeded even more cautiously. Her mind raced rapidly, trying to remember the most effective way of dealing with a newly transformed werewolf when suddenly…

"Bad Dobby! Bad, bad Dobby!"

Oh.

Hermione heaved a loud sigh of relief and lowered her wand, hurrying around the rose bushes to where she thought was the source of the house-elf's voice, her heart lightening considerably for the first time that night. Who would have thought that she would run into the sock-loving house-elf while she was in the past? Hermione could see the silhouette of a small creature crouched next to one of the rose bushes, wet with rain, and she quickened her steps, calling out as she did. "Hello?"

Dobby jumped up and turned around to look at her, his mouth wide opened in surprise, giving Hermione a clear view of his lumpy little tongue. "Miss?" Dobby said hesitantly.

Hermione grinned. "Hello," she said again. Glad as she was to see Harry's endearing little worshipper, she couldn't give away the fact that she already knew who the house-elf was. "I'm Mel, what's your name?" She thrust her right hand towards him and smiled encouragingly as Dobby stared at her offered hand. Without warning, Dobby jumped back and cried again, pulling both his flap-like ears hard for a moment before abandoning them. He bent down to pick up what Hermione thought was a thorny branch, and to her horror, proceed to chew it.

"What are you doing?" she cried and snatched the branch away from the elf's hands. Dobby whimpered. "Dobby h-has to punish himself because Miss is talking t-to Dobby," he snivelled and blew his nose on his pillowcase with a loud honk.

Hermione bit her lips in thought, she really wanted to talk to the elf, but judging from the way things were going, her efforts would probably result in Dobby trying to jump off a tree. Hermione's mind ran furiously over everything she knew about house-elves from her experience with SPEW, surly there was someway for her to get around the house-elves' blind obedience to rules.

Studying Dobby's face for more signs of distress, Hermione ventured carefully, "Mr Malfoy told me to tell you that you must talk to me."

Dobby ears drooped at the mention of Lucius, but Hermione was glad that he had calmed down. She sat down on the damp grass and patted on the ground. "Sit down, Dobby." The house-elf looked ready to have a seizure. Hermione added quickly, "Mr Malfoy said you must do everything I tell you." The elf opted for a half squat, and Hermione shook her head in resignation, that was probably the best she could get out of someone who believed in inequality between magical beings.

An hour later, she had the house-elf sitting complacently beside her, his eyes wide with wonder as she described the adventures of his favourite hero, telling Dobby as much about 'Harry Potter's greatness' as she dared to. She had left out major details that she thought might affect the future, and replaced bits and pieces of her stories with fabricated tales befitting the status of a currently four-year-old Harry. She did not think that it would affect the future, seeing that all that she had talked about was how wonderful the baby Harry was to defeat the Dark Lord at such a young age, but she was gratified to see that it had made all the difference to Dobby's day.

"Harry Potter is a great wizard…" Dobby said in wonder after Hermione finished her tale.

"Yes, he is," Hermione replied fondly.

"Miss is a great wizard, too."

Absurdly, Hermione blushed at the sincerity in the house-elf's compliment. "I'm a witch, Dobby, and I'm not as great as you think I am."

"Oh," Dobby began earnestly. "But Miss talks to Dobby. Dobby is liking Miss."

Hermione smiled and patted the house-elf fondly on his head.

"Dobby!" a sudden voice rang out. Hermione jumped violently and scrambled to her feet, retrieving her hidden wand for the second time that night. To her side, Dobby started shivering.

"Mr Malfoy," Hermione said calmly once she realised who had spoken. "I was lost and Dobby kindly agreed to keep me company. Now that you're here, we can go and rejoin the party." She gave him a brilliant smile, and hoped that the man's fondness for keeping up appearances would prevent him from punishing Dobby in front of her.

Malfoy continued to glare at his house-elf, and Hermione knew that she had read him correctly when he curtly dismissed him. She watched Dobby scurry away hurriedly and turned to Malfoy, her face masked into a smile.

Malfoy smiled back at her, and offered her his right arm. Clenching her teeth, Hermione allowed him to lead her back to the party.

"That is a beautiful necklace you're wearing, my dear." Malfoy was the first to break the silence. "It complements your skin tone most wondrously."

Hermione nodded tightly. "Severus gave it to me. It belonged to his mother."

Severus returned to the hall an hour later, slightly annoyed that Mulciber had taken up so much of his time. He had wanted to leave the party a few hours ago, but the expectation for him to make small talk with one person or another delayed him from doing so. He looked around for Mel. She was nowhere in the crowd. Severus frowned and scanned the crowd again for Lucius. The host was absent. Severus left swiftly.

"I've always admired Severus for his taste for the finer things in life." Malfoy continued. He dropped the hand that Hermione was holding on to and placed it firmly around the small of her back, guiding her through the narrow path that led back to the hall. Hermione glanced at him sharply, angry at the sudden intrusion into her personal space. Malfoy did not seem to notice her expression; his eyes were still on the necklace. "Where he gets them from, I do not know," he said again, finally taking his eyes off the sparkling jewels to look at Hermione's face. "But I've always wanted the exact same things for myself. Imperio."