SUMMER BEFORE YEAR 2

Second Year was about to start. Hermione finally got to see her friends, and her parents had agreed to come with her to do her school shopping in Diagon Alley (looking nervous, but that was to be expected). Fortunately, the Weasleys were more than happy to introduce them to the magical world.

She had just finished having Gilderoy Lockhart sign her books when she saw Harry, Ron and Ginny speaking to none other than Draco and Lucius Malfoy. Great. She pushed through the crowd, reaching the group just in time to hear Lucius berate Harry for using Voldemort's name.

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," she said fiercely.

Draco looked her up and down from his position beside her, not knowing whether to be horrified or amused at the way she'd addressed his father.

Lucius raised a perfectly arched brow.

"Ah. Miss Granger. Always a pleasure," he said. Hermione felt her face grow warm as everyone looked confusedly at her. She'd never told them about meeting the Malfoys last year. "And those are your – Muggle – parents, I presume?" He nodded to where Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger and Molly Weasley waited in line to pay for Hermione's books.

"Mmmmm," he sneered. "Well, at least you're not alone this year, even if you happen to be in the company of some rather disgraceful wizards." His cold grey eyes raked over the Weasleys.

"Come along Draco," he said imperiously. "Let's find a shop less…polluted." Draco brushed past Hermione, raising a pale brow at her before turning to Harry and Ron.

"See you at school." He made it sound like a threat.

As soon as they left Harry rounded on Hermione. "What was that?"

"What?" Hermione asked.

"You know what. Why was Lucius Malfoy addressing you as though you'd already met?"

"I did meet him. In this bookshop, last year," she said.

Harry frowned. "Why didn't you say anything?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's not like we were friends in the beginning of the year. Plus, it was an incident I wanted to forget."

"Why?" Arthur demanded. "What did Lucius do to you? I'll give him a piece of my mind, by Merlin I will!"

"No," Hermione said quickly. "I got lost somehow and ended up in Knockturn Alley. A man attacked me, and the Malfoys saved me."

"They saved you?!" Ron exclaimed. "I don't believe it."

Mr. Weasley looked just as shocked.

"Well it's true," Hermione said defensively. "The whole lot of them might be pretentious Slytherin gits, but they aren't entirely evil."

Malfoy POV

"Ugh, that Granger. What a jumped-up little…"

"Draco, your mother and I have had to hear you complain about her all summer. Kindly spare me now. Anyway, I would think you'd be ashamed that a girl with no magical family beat you in every exam."

Draco flushed. "It's not – she's always sucking up to the professors, it's not fair! And you know Dumbledore favors Gryffindors."

Lucius ignored him.

"Come, I need to take a few things to Borgin."

"The Ministry's doing raids, then?" Draco asked.

"So it would seem."

They slipped into Knockturn Alley and away.

HOGWARTS, YEAR 2: FALL

Draco swaggered onto the Quidditch pitch, the Slytherin Quidditch team fanning out around him, each clutching a brand new Nimbus 2001. He smirked at the Gryffindor team. Finally! He'd have one up on Potter. He lifted his chin even higher, watching Hermione make her way down the stands out of the corner of one eye.

Oliver Wood touched down, stomping toward the Slytherins.

"Flint," he said tightly. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like, Wood? We have practice."

"No, you don't! We're scheduled for this time. What's that Malfoy whelp doing with the Slytherin Quidditch team, anyway? And are those…are those…?"

"He's our new Seeker," said Marcus Flint. "And yes, these are brand new Nimbus 2001s. You'll be eating our dust this season, Wood."

"Jealous, Potter?" Malfoy taunted. "These brooms make yours look like kindling."

Hermione stepped forward. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent," she said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips.

Draco's pride deflated. The Gryffindor team was laughing, and the Slytherins behind him shifted uneasily. He thought he even heard one or two of them snicker. Flushing a bright pink, he retaliated. "Nobody asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood." There was a collective gasp. Granger's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he could see that they were shiny with unshed tears. Immediately a knot formed in his stomach.

But then Weasley was pointing his wand at his chest and screaming "Slugulus Eructo!" It backfired spectacularly, and Draco laughed with the rest of the Slytherins as his red-haired nemesis hunched over, vomiting slugs.

"Come on, let's get him to Hagrid's," Hermione said, giving Draco a glare full of so much venom he felt ill. There was a finality to that look.

He almost wished he could take the word back. But no. She is a Mudblood, and there's no point pretending differently. Purebloods and Muggleborns simply did not mix.

Hermione POV

"Filthy little Mudblood." Those three words hit her with all the force of a Bludger. She knew Malfoy was prejudiced against Muggleborns, but he'd never called her "Mudblood" before. Fighting back tears, she was almost grateful when Ron cast that hex, if only to serve as a distraction and keep her from crying in earnest.

Before she and Harry took Ron to Hagrid's, she gave Malfoy a last burning glare. This is it, she told him silently. We're done. Any childish ideas she'd previously held about him being "not that bad" were clearly unfounded. It's better this way. Slytherin Purebloods and Gryffindor Muggleborns simply did not mix.

WINTER

Fear waited in every corner, clung to every shadow, stole through every corridor. Slytherin's monster had been unleashed, and everyone except the Slytherins were terrified. Hermione was furiously trying to finish the Polyjuice Potion so they could lay the "Malfoy is the Heir of Slytherin" rumors to rest. As obnoxious as he was, she was almost positive that he wasn't the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. Well, unless it was by accident, she conceded. Harry and Ron were quite sure he was the ultimate evil in Slytherin House, but she didn't think he was murderous enough to unleash Slytherin's monster on the castle. He couldn't really want her dead, could he?

She shook her head and continued stirring the Polyjuice Potion. Almost ready now. And then they would know for sure.

LATE WINTER

Ron and Harry came running into the Hospital Wing where Hermione sat on the edge of a bed, covered in hair and utterly miserable.

She perked up when she saw them.

"Well?" she asked eagerly. "Did you find out who it is?"

"No," Harry said. "It's not Malfoy, we know that much." A knot in Hermione's stomach released.

"You should've heard what the little rat said about a Muggleborn dying!"

"Ron…" Harry warned.

But he was already plowing ahead.

"'I hope it's Granger,' that's what he said!" Ron fumed. "I about decked 'im."

The knot that had unfurled in Hermoine's stomach wound itself tight again.

"He…he said that?" she said, tearing up all over again.

"Oy, it's just Malfoy! He's a git, isn't he?" Ron said, surprised that she was so upset.

Harry patted her shoulder cautiously.

"He's not worth it, Hermione."

"You're right of course." She let out a little laugh. "I'll just be so happy to be rid of all this hair so I can get out of here and hex his lily-white arse!"

SPRING

Hermione poured feverishly over a large tome on magical creatures in the Restricted Section of the library, searching for something – anything – that could indicate what Slytherin's monster could be. She was sure that if it wasn't discovered soon another Muggleborn would die. Perhaps it would even be her.

She growled in frustration. Suddenly a piece of parchment hovered into her peripheral. She grabbed it, looking around in confusion, but could see no one. It was a torn-out page on Basilisks. Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.

And beneath this, in an elegant hand, was written a single word – Pipes.

"That's it!" she exclaimed. "Oh Merlin, I have to tell Harry and Ron." She folded the page small and leapt up, cursing herself when she realized that it was already dark. She looked left and right nervously, pulling out her little compact mirror. Her footsteps in the deserted halls sounded uncommonly loud. Approaching a corner, she held the mirror out in front of her, angling it so that she could see around. The last thing she remembered was a huge pair of cruel yellow eyes.

LATE SPRING

Hermione blinked slowly, wincing against the harsh overhead lights. She tried to push herself off the bed, but found her every muscle resisting.

"Stay still, dear," Madame Pomfrey bustled over and laid her gently back down.

"What happened?" she asked.

"You were attacked! By Slytherin's monster, no less. You and young Mr. Creevey are exceedingly lucky you didn't die. When the Malfoy boy carried you in you were so pale I feared you were already gone. Thank goodness for Professor Sprout's Mandrakes. You'll feel better in no time, I'll wager."

"Did you say that Malfoy brought me to the Hospital Wing? Draco Malfoy?"

"Aye. Quite frantic he was, too. I had to kick him out, he was hovering so much."

She carefully lifted Hermione's head and fluffed her pillows.

"All right, dear? You look a bit bewildered," Madame Pomfrey frowned. "I'll get you a tonic."

"I'm fine, thanks. Just shocked. I mean, Malfoy hates me."

Madame Pomfrey lifted an eyebrow. "Does he now?" She turned away, but before she disappeared into her store room she said: "I have healed many Slytherins over the years, Miss Granger, and I can tell you that most aren't nearly as bad as they pretend to be. Some are, of course – but that's just human nature, isn't it?"