One thing that had remained the same despite Voldemort, despite the years that had passed them by, and despite the death by fire was History of Magic. It remained as lacklustre and sleep inducing of a class as it had always been. Never failing was the familiar droning of Professor Binns as he ploughed through every perceivable obstacle as he told less than exciting tales of Goblin War after Goblin War after Goblin War with the usual chorus of snores that provided the harmony to his lessons. Hermione, of course was sitting up straight, quill in hand, and listening carefully. She had pulled her amber hair back into a low ponytail to keep it out of the way of her note taking. In the desks on either side of her were her male companions, both attempting to keep their heads up despite the warmness in the room and the buzzing in their ears that was their ghost of a teacher.
It was a Friday afternoon, the last class of a very difficult week. N.E.W.T.s were this year and their workload reflected it. Hermione had already fallen back into her usual study oriented routines, while Harry and Ron both found it more difficult to hit the books. The three of them hadn't had much of a summer, in the usual sense. Each day they had run drills in the mornings and gone over information in the afternoon. They hadn't even ventured to Hogsmeade after they found out that they would be attending school. Instead, someone less conspicuous from the Order picked up all of their supplies for them. The summer holidays hadn't been very relaxing, so needless to say, Ron and Harry were reluctant to buckle down.
By the end of the class, the snores were so loud that she could hardly hear Binns. Luckily, just as the last student, other than Hermione, fell asleep, he dismissed the class and lazily floated through the wall into his office. After shaking her friends into consciousness, the Trio gather their things and moved into the hallway.
"Seriously, does he notice anything? I think that even if no one showed up for class, he would stand up there and give the lesson." Ron rubbed the sleep from his eyes as the made their way to the Gryffindor common room.
Beside him, Harry stretched like a cat. "I swear I saw a Hufflepuff chuck a book through him once and he didn't even blink." Hermione giggle beside them, juggling her notes and her book as she attempted to put them in her bag. Harry reached over, brushing her arm, and took the book from her. "Let me help," he told her with a gentle smile. Though the two of them were friends, it was unlike him to be so thoughtful towards her. Most of the time he treated her as just another guy. She looked up at him, a bit surprised at the gesture.
"Yes, thank you," she replied, her voice nearly in a whisper. On the other side of her, Ron cleared his throat pointedly and they snapped out of their moment. Straightening herself up and hoping she wasn't blushing, she looked away from Harry and they continued down the hallway. "I don't know if it's all the homework we've gotten this week or if Binns has gotten worse, but I felt a bit drowsy myself." It was an attempt to resume normal conversation that Ron gladly carried on with.
"If they ever run short of that dreamless sleep potion in the infirmary, I'm sure Binns would save the day with a lesson about the Centaur treaty of 1876 or something."
"Actually the Centuar's never…" Hermione started, but seeing the look on Ron's face she stopped. "Well, you could do with some refreshing on History of Magic, if you will recall your O.W.L.s grade." She sniffed haughtily at him and both of her friends looked a little startled at her sudden change of mood. Then she let out a laugh and they both sighed in relief.
"Really, 'Moine, you're getting to be a pretty fine actress," Harry said, nudging her lightly with his elbow.
She took a small bow just as they were reaching the Fat Lady's portrait. "Thank you. Wiffleball." Promptly the entrance swung open and the three of them stepped inside. Hermione went up to the girl's dormitory, while Harry and Ron took the opposite stairs up to the boys.
Once she had stepped inside, she cast her robes onto her bed and picked out more comfortable clothes from her wardrobe. When she had finished dressing in her jeans and faded out T-shirt, she picked put her potions book into her bag and took it downstairs into the common room. Harry and Ron were waiting for her on one of the couches, talking about this year's Quidditch team. Harry had decided to take the position as captain, once again. He had figured that if they would be stuck at school, he would at least have some fun with it. Ron had agreed and was set to be keeper once again. When they saw her, they stood up and strode over to her.
"Why do you have your bag," Ron asked, sounding suspicious. She raised an eyebrow at him in return.
"You see, I've put my books in it for easy transport." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Books are used for studying in school. Studying is so you can make decent marks, you follow?" Ron made a face at her and Harry smiled at her from over his shoulder.
"I know all that, but you aren't going to study now, are you?"
"Well, yes. We've got loads of work to do. I would ask if you were going to study too if I didn't already know that you'll put all of your work off until Sunday."
"But I thought we would go to the lake and take a break from working for once." This time Harry had chimed in, sounding more than a little disappointed.
"There just too much I have to do. I've got that potions essay, charms, ancient runes and now History of Magic. All that on top of at that we have the transfiguration assignment." The new transfiguration had turned out to be just as strict as the last, making it obvious that McGonagall had chosen her. "I wanted to try out the Head's library anyways."
Ron shrugged his shoulders, knowing that there was no convincing Hermione when she got like this. "Come on, Harry. Let's go run some practice drills at the pitch."
"I'll see you at dinner," she told them before turning and heading out of the portrait.
After a trip up a flight of stairs, two left turns, and a right, she found herself standing in front of a large painting of a forest. Hiding amongst the foliage was a snake, a badger, a lion, and an eagle. Ignoring the fact that those four animals wouldn't be found in the same habits, she took out her wand and tapped the painting. "Flowerpot." Instead of swinging open, as she expected it to, it transformed into an opening just wide enough for her and her book bag to squeeze through. When she was inside, the wall reformed behind her, leaving no indication that there was an exit there at all.
Before her was a room like none she had ever seen. The walls were lined with bookshelves that reached all the way to the tall ceiling. The school library scarcely had more books than this room held. It was a wonder to Hermione that they would reserve so much only for the Head Girl and Boy. Stepping further into the room, she noticed four large cherry wood desks that had been pushed together. From the look of the elaborate carvings on them, she guessed that they had been there since the school had been founded. She set her bag on a nearby chair and trailed her fingers lightly over the one of the desks, feeling the smooth wood against her skin.
Hermione wandered over to the ladder that had been provided to reach the top shelf and climbed it. At the top looked over the titles of books that were decades older than she was, feeling quite overwhelmed that the room was so beautifully put together. All of it seemed like too much of an honour for a Head Girl.
But just then the Head Boy decided to break her revere and remind her exactly why this room was too good to be true. "Looks like the Mudblood is in heaven." He looked up at her snidely as he tossed his own bag aside. Half-hazardly stuffing his hands in the pockets of his khaki slacks; he made his way over to one of the shelves and lazily pulled out a book. Opening it to a random page, he skimmed over the words. Hermione was hurried down the ladder, ending up standing next to him at the bottom.
"And I suppose you're used to such lavish living." He slammed the book shut and set it dangerously close to the ledge of the shelf. Immediately Hermione reached around him and gently put it in its place. Draco ignored her corrective action, wiping his finger through the thick dust that he settle in front of the books over the years distastefully.
Brushing the dust onto the hem of his green shirt, he muttered "House elves haven't been doing their job." Beside him, Hermione rolled her eyes and moved back to her bookbag. She took out her potions text and set it out on one of the large desks. Then she took out a quill, an inkbottle, and her half finished essay, and sat down in a comfortable red chair she had found near the desk.
In the desk opposite from her, Draco set out his own potions book and supplies. The only different was that he settled into a green chair instead of a red one. Catching sight of him, Hermione couldn't help but asking "What are you doing?" It was obvious that he intended to study, but the last thing she wanted was to spend a few hours alone in a room with Draco Malfoy.
"Umm, I'm finishing homework." He looked at her strangely for a moment. "Did someone addle your brains over the summer or is your dirty blood just catching up to you?"
Hermione glared at him. "I'm studying here and I would appreciate it if you didn't waste my time." She knew that she was being ridiculous, but she couldn't just sit there with Malfoy, could she? No, of course she couldn't just let him get away with sitting there. It was like he was mocking her.
"If you're so concerned, you're free to leave." Draco picked up his quill and started flipping through the pages of his text. Hermione's copper eyes narrowed at him, but he didn't bother looking up. Sensing that it was a useless argument and too stubborn to follow his advice, she begrudgingly picked up her essay and started to read over what she had so far.
A half an hour later, Hermione was studying in full force, having eventually forgotten that Draco was sitting mere feet from her. "Hamswort, hamswort," she muttered to herself, turning through the chapter she was reading. "I know I just saw it." She ran her finger down the page, but had no luck.
"Problems, Mudblood?" Draco called, not looking away from his parchment.
"Quiet," she quipped back, rereading another passage. It was unlike her to forget where she had seen something in a chapter, but during the summer she hadn't bothered to read the book as she usually did, thinking that she wouldn't be attending school again. Hermione was beginning feel as if she was falling behind and it was only the first week of school.
"Hamswort, used in magical protective potions and light love and friendship potions. Found mostly in Northern Canada and only picked on Wednesday afternoons, otherwise it is rendered useless." As he said it his quill never stopped moving across the page, though she thought she could see a smirk on his face when he finished.
Taken aback, she managed a small "oh," before she reworded the information and wrote a short paragraph about it. When she was finished, she shot him a nervous glance. Why had he told her that? Was he trying to create some sort of report with her? Was he trying to trick her? No, she knew that the information had been accurate. She remembered reading it before. Maybe he was just mocking her with the fact that he had known and she hadn't. There were endless possibilities and his grey eyes gave nothing away. "Thank you," she finally mumbled, her face to her parchment but her eyes watching him. There was the slightest of hesitations in his writing when she said it, before he grunted in response.
In another hour, still feeling a bit strange about both her own and Draco's behaviour, she stood up and put her things into her bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she glanced at the Slytherin and found that he was looking up at her too. Quickly, they both turned away, Draco to his essay and Hermione to the door. Mentally shaking herself, she made her way out of the room and out into the hallway. If that wasn't the strangest thing that had ever happened to her, she didn't know what was.
After she had put her bag back in her dorm, she made her way down to dinner. Both Harry and Ron were waiting for her and smiled when she took a seat across from them. Looking around the Great Hall, it was obvious that some parents had chosen to keep their children away from the school after the tragedy that had closed last year's term. All of the house tables were emptier than they had been in years past, especially the Slytherin table. Most of the children that had belonged to known Death Eaters were no longer present, as their parents were afraid of being tracked down through their offspring. Avery, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle. They were all gone. It seemed that the only one left was Draco, which made his being there all the more suspicious.
When she had greeted her friends, she picked out a meal of mashed potatoes and pork chops, but she didn't start to eat yet. Instead she pushed them around her plate, her mind still back in the Head's study. Harry eyed her with concern. "Are you alright?"
Hermione realized what she was doing and put on her most cheerful face. "Oh yes. How was your practice?" Harry started to tell her about an amazing save that Ron had made, but her attention drifted from him and back to Draco. Something was definitely going on with the blonde Slytherin, but what, she did not know.
"Hermione. Hermione! Hello?" She blinked and found Ron waving his hand in front of her eyes. Slowly, her friends and the Great Hall came back into focus.
"I'm sorry, what?" she asked. She lowered her fork down to her plate and put her hands in her lap, forcing herself to concentrate on what was around her.
Again Harry looked concerned. "Is something wrong," he asked, in tender tones.
"Oh no," she replied. "Malfoy was in the Head's study too, that's all." It was the truth. At least half of it, anyway. For some reason she didn't think what happened was something she wanted to share with the two of them.
Both Harry and Ron frowned. "What did he do?" Ron was showing the symptoms of becoming worked up and so Hermione knew she had to snap out of it.
She smiled at them, reaching across the table and grasp one of each of their hands. "Really, it was nothing worse than the usual Mudblood remarks." A flat out lie to her friends, and for what? Why should she keep what happened from them? Still, she didn't tell them.
"Are you sure its safe for you to be alone with him?"
"Now Harry, I do believe you've been spending too much time with Mrs. Weasley. Really, I'm a full grown witch now. I can take care of myself." Harry gave her a look. "Alright, alright, I'll be careful. Satisfied?"
Reluctantly, Harry nodded in reply. After a moment, Hermione steered the conversation towards the disappearance of a Ministry worker that had been in the Daily Prophet and soon enough the three of them were lost in speculations about what it could mean and how it might relate to them.