Chapter 12
Second week of class was better and worse than the first. The better part was they were finally using magic in class now that week two was there. The first week was mostly theoretical except for potions, so this second week they really started using wands. The worse part was that she didn't know how.
Holding a wand was so much different from casting with her hand. Too often she ended up with the same problem she had when she first levitated the paper clip: she overpowered everything. A simple spell to put out fires – one her parents had made sure she learned before she was allowed to cast the spell for bluebell flames, even – ended up icing over the entire desk.
"You said you knew the charm," Fred whispered.
Hermione felt mortified. If only she'd been frozen instead of the desk. "I do … wandlessly. It feels different."
Fred didn't actually make fun of her for it, though she shouldn't have been surprised. The Twins were always kind to her. Her confession to him actually helped her because he was able to help her without it being patronizing.
Because he was a twin, Fred was able to explain how he could kind of feel the energy between his and George, and that it was really easy for him to use a wand once he'd attuned to that too. He said it should be the same for her.
It did help her to think of it like that. It was like using a new spell, she realized; using a wand was getting familiar with the magic of that wand. She was sure if she took the normal two weeks to adjust to it, she'd be on her feet in no time.
But that wasn't all! They had double Transfiguration Thursday mornings and she was greeted by the most amazing thing … Professor McGonagall was a cat! Well, she could turn into a cat. It seemed a slow transfiguration done quickly, each individual part shifting as opposed to just a complete shift one way or another. Even her glasses and clothes were part of the transformation, which she didn't understand. They seemed to just get sucked into the skin.
The rest of the class wasn't surprised and snickered as the girl gasped in awe. First years.
"Where do your clothes go when you change?" Hermione asked, first opportunity she could. "Would it work if you were wearing something like dragonhide that's magically resistant? Can you do wandless magic as a cat?"
"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall looked down her stern face at her, "the Animagus transformation requires months of study and discipline. It would not be possible or practical for me to answer all your questions in one class period, nor would I – the transformation is too complex for third-year students to attempt."
Too complex? I can do it! I like complex! Hermione was off to the library the moment the were out for lunch and again when Arithmancy was done for the day, reading all she could about the Animagus transformation.
At first it was interesting just to wonder what animal she would be … there were so many theories about what determines your form. Some say it is based on the elemental nature of your magic and will relate to that and your wand wood. Some suggested that the animal will almost always be one native to the environment of your birth, or one you interacted with before.
But she'd only ever really interacted with Daedalus – Hermione wasn't sure Animagi could turn into a magical animal – and she really didn't know much about British animals. They had the boring ones, like horses, cats, dogs, and sheep. Maybe owls weren't magical? Hopefully that was an option. They were often associated with wisdom and intelligence.
Other countries were more fascinating though, like America with the bears and mountain lions and alligators, the African continent with elephants, antelope, and lions, and especially South America with all the colourful and crazy creatures of the Amazon.
But after so much speculation and thinking how she'd very much like to be something that could actually jump, or climb, or do all the things she couldn't do now, she really wanted to start learning how to do it. It was the same as anything else she learned, right? There was the bit about the mandrake leaf in the mouth, but then it was just recitations and practise and then a small potion. It seemed so simple!
I can definitely do it, she resolved.
It took an hour for her to outline her next month's endeavour.
First she'd need a mandrake leaf, but she had that in her potions kit. Or, well, to be precise it was in the NEWTS advanced potions kit that Professor Snape had strongly recommended she get. It was bigger, had slightly better equipment, and had more ingredients that she could use up in lessons. Now it had a better purpose. By Friday night she'd used a sticking charm to fasten it to the roof of her mouth and had begun to add the meditations and spell recitation to her nightly scripture study.
Second, she had to avoid eating or drinking anything magical. The sticking charm was fine, but anything else in her mouth would have negative consequences. So no Bertie Botts or other magical candies, no potions, and no magical delicacies like dragon tongue. She hadn't seen it on the dining table, but the book warned against it so Hermione still chronicled that information away.
And lastly, not to let anyone find out.
The last point only lasted ten minutes.
The Weasley twins had come to find her in the library, had cornered her with the book, and then demanded their own Mandrake leaf so they could try too.
Hermione resisted best she could. "No."
"Come on! If you can do it, we should too. Forge is great at Transfiguration."
"Right-o, Gred. And you need someone to watch your back too."
"You shouldn't do unsupervised magic."
"Always bring a twin!"
"When you're breaking the rules."
Two sets of tear, puppy-dog expressions looked up at her as the twins sank to their knees. "PWEAASE?!"
"Oh, fine!"
So they were officially in it together. Hermione couldn't help but remind them every day to say their recitations, or nag them about magical candies. It wasn't that she didn't know how smart Fred and George were, she just … didn't trust that they would remember. Hopefully they could do this.
Besides that project, she also had a few new spells she was learning one her own. Defence was a class she didn't feel confident in and she hated to feed less than competent. There was only one defensive spell she'd actually used from the book – ventus – because mum and dad didn't want her to hurt someone. Now she had to learn all sorts of spells like orbis, expelliarmus, and protego. She was definitely behind in that class.
Herbology was another one. She'd learnt all the plant names, knew how to use them in potions, but she had no clue how to take care of them. She had no Gryffindors in that class with her, though, and so she was mostly alone again. She'd taken to pairing with the same Slytherin Professor Snape put her with in class. "Mister Price", as Severus called him, or Anthony as she knew him. He brought over a Hufflepuff boy named Diggory and together they made a strange trio of Houses as a group. She had all the help she needed, and it seemed that Anthony was glad for some reason to be around Cedric because he smiled a bit more around the boy.
In fact, that was one class with the Slytherins that seemed to be … calm. Pleasant, even. At least with Anthony and Cedric. Anthony took on all the more dangerous jobs for Cedric – wrangling the tenacula heads and knotting them up – who worked exceptionally hard to make up for the imbalance by taking care of not only Anthony but her.
"You're … friends, then?" she asked as they milked the tentacula fangs.
Price smirked, but Cedric laughed. "Mr. Quiet over there wouldn't say so, but he doesn't say much anyways. We got paired up in a class like this first year and we just hit it off. Price is a good sort no matter how gruff he like to appear."
"No," Anthony huffed. "You're just a kitten."
"See?" Cedric laughed. "He just said, out loud, that he likes kittens."
Hermione giggled too, and Anthony growled. "Just cause I don't kick 'em…"
Cedric directed a devilish smile at Anthony, but leaned towards Hermione with stiff, unmoving lips. "Hey, want to see something?"
Hermione nodded excitedly.
Cedric winked quickly before righting himself quickly. Too quickly. He was falling backwards, slowly, straight towards the venomous tentacula! "Oops!"
Price moved so fast Hermione didn't even see him. It wasn't even a half a second before Price had his hand around Diggory's wrist and was yanking him towards the worktable, wand out.
One murmured spell later and Diggory's hand was stuck to the bench.
"No more falling."
Cedric and Hermione shared a look and a laugh at how flushed the Slytherin looked. Cedric was right! Anthony really did care about his friend. He was kind of like Prof. Snape. How do they get away with so much unshown emotion? Hermione couldn't imagine being so tight-lipped.
Cedric was stuck there for the rest of the period as the designated notes taker, only let loose at the end when Anthony Price decided he was no longer a threat to himself.
Price put his hand on the Hufflepuff's shoulder when he was released, his face imperturbable. "Be good?"
Cedric laughed. "Yes sir. No feeding myself to the plants."
It was like watching the twins, only a harmony of opposites rather than similarities. Hermione chuckled all her way to Gryff/Raven Defence.
That was another interesting dynamic. You'd think that with how they procrastinated that Gryffindors would be the antithesis of Ravenclaw, but it seemed that sometimes Ravenclaws easily bored. They always had games or play-things ready to use, making them appealing friends to everyone. It's like they had built-in distractions. She even saw Fred and George with a pair of Ravenclaws exchanging jokes on passed notes. She sat by Tara in that class, gratefully!, since the girl always had some sort of scented bubble charmed around her in that class that drove away the smell of garlic with elderflower and cherry. Although, it was kind of embarrassing how the girl had pulled her away from Fred and George to make her sit beside her.
Professor Quirrell acted … strange. He was like Neville with the stutter, but she got the idea that he didn't like her. Tara was even holding back her need to shout the answer to questions by holding her arm. It hurt a little bit, but it was true she couldn't really control herself.
But the Professor really preferred to ignore her, focusing on the Ravenclaws. Tara said that Professor Quirrell was a Ravenclaw himself so he was probably more comfortable with them.
But her favourite class was Ancient Runes. It was the class was where she got her second project (besides catching up, of course): wards. She wasn't good at Defense Against the Dark Arts yet since she was so behind in spells, but runes could be the perfect solution to impress the Professor. If she could defend herself using runes … she'd have to have a pre-made set of runes on her, somewhere … Magical theory with runes was hard to understand, though, so she might need to use one someone else had already made at first until she could understand it.
So now she had tutoring, catch-up to do in Defense, Animagus and Runes projects … Hermione was a little busy.
She was so busy with her projects that at first, she didn't understand.
"Flying lessons?"
She'd shown up for lessons and he wasn't letting her into his office. A stone-faced, arms-crossed, black-clad guardian gargoyle of his own office.
"Those are you lessons this afternoon," he informed her succinctly. "All first years need to learn to ride a broom and so shall you."
"But—"
"You agreed."
That pulled her up short in front of his disapproving glare.
"You made me responsible for your education, Miss Granger." His expression was unyielding. He didn't even shift his weight foot to foot as he stood, he was a pillar of strength, immovable. "Any competent witch needs to learn to ride a broom. You don't need to enjoy the experience, however it is a valid form a transport and will be useful for you in the future."
Hermione hadn't thought of it like that. "Like driving a car, then?"
He nodded. "It is a skill you will need, and so you will be attending flying class every other week with your first-year classmates."
It was logical, sensible, and useful. She really shouldn't feel nervous. Her fingers shouldn't clutch her bookbag tighter with nerves. But they did.
"I'm not good at sports, though," she protested weakly.
She knew it was weak, and so did Professor Snape because he rolled his eyes at her. "Miss Granger, you are being idiotic. You're not going to be in competition, simply taking a leisurely fly. Now stop wasting my time and yours and attend the South Lawn for lessons. I can bet your housemates are already there. It's usually the sole lesson they're excited for."
She didn't want to, but Hermione wouldn't say no to the Professor now. Instead she plastered on a smile and started on her way. To keep her spirits high, she skipped down to the field. It did help her feel a bit more carefree about the whole thing, really, yet when she took her spot it was still fear-inducing. She so scared of falling, and looking down at the thin stick lying in front of her she doubted it could hold her up. There was no way this could work.
"I've been flying since I was five," an arrogant voice drawled. Platinum blonde flashed in front of her as a boy sauntered towards a broom. "I really shouldn't have to waste my time learning the basics again, really. It's a shame first-years can't try out for the House Quidditch teams."
- From PAGE 156-158 -
Their teacher, Madame Hooch, arrived. She had short grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
Hermione smile to herself. She knew that would be what the teacher wanted, that's why she was already standing primly by a broom right on the end.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madame Hooch at the front, "and say, 'Up'!"
Hermione saw Harry's broom immediately jump into his hand, same as the Malfoy boy. She grimaced and tried herself.
"Up," she tried. The broom just rolled over. "Up. Up!"
Finally, she grit her teeth and really, really wanted it. It was too embarrassing to be one of the people who couldn't. "Up!" The broom landed in her hand then with a little too much force.
Madame Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows, correcting their grips. Hermione cringed when Hooch corrected Malfoy, telling him he'd done it wrong for years.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madame Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle – three – two –"
But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madame Hooch's lips.
"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle – twelve feet – twenty feet. Hermione watched in horror as Neville's shaking made his slip, throwing him off the broom. He was falling!
Hermione tried to think of something – a spell, something – but she didn't even raise her hand as Neville crashed to the ground with a sickening thump. Neville's broom was still going, flying over to the Forbidden Forest.
"Broken wrist," Madame Hooch muttered. She looked a little pale. "Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get."
She turned to the rest of the class.
"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! Leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear."
Neville was trudged off towards the castle and was only out of sight for a second before the platinum boy who was gloating earlier burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The other Slytherins joined in.
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry babies, Parvati."
"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
Hermione didn't recognize it, but it looked really pretty and golden, covered in runes. Some magical artifact?
"Give it here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stepped back to watch.
Malfoy smiled nastily.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect – how about – up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt on his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly, but Hermione was angry. He was disobeying the Professor. Her wand was out in a second. "Come get it, Potter!"
Harry gave her a heart attack when he grabbed his broom.
"No!" she shouted. "You are both being idiots! Draco Malfoy, you are not supposed to be flying! Give that thing here."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll get it myself."
Draco laughed and tossed the glassy sphere between his hands. "Oh really? Potter needs an ugly know-it-all to fight for him?"
Hermione lifted her wand – and, surreptitiously, her hand – and yelled, "Accio!"
Both boy and remembrall were tugged towards her immediately, and the class cleared out of the path. At first Malfoy tried to fly away from it, but when he realized there was no escape he redirected himself and flew straight at her. His face was nearly murderous.
"Hermione!" Harry snatched her just as Draco whooshed past them, scooping her up onto the broom with him. "We're going after him. Hold on!"
Hermione felt dizzy and did exactly what he said, holding tightly to the broom and trying to make herself as small as possible so Harry could drive.
Maybe it was because Harry was driving, but it felt exhilarating moving so fast through the air. The wind was cool and crisp and she loved how it bit at her nose when the air whipped around it. Harry whopped behind her as they caught up to where Malfoy was holding the remembrall with a horrible smirk.
"Ooh, a power-couple?" Malfoy sneered. "I'm surprised that broom is holding up your fat head, Potter, let alone another person."
"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off your broom."
"Oh, yeah?" Malfoy said, looking a little worried.
Hermione clutched tight, Harry whispered, "Hold on."
They were moving forward, and like a javelin they threw themselves at Malfoy. Malfoy barely moved in time; Harry made a much to quick turn that made her wobble even as he held the broom steady. A few people below were cheering, but Hermione was worried about Harry. He could have done this without her, but now she was in the middle of it and weighing him down.
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here, Malfoy," Harry called.
The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.
"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground.
"Harry!"
She wrapped both her arms around the broom and held on even as Harry bent over her to speed up the broom. This was faster than exhilarating, it was desperately fast. She peeked up once, only seeing the walls of the castle coming up too quickly.
"Haaaaarrrrrry!"
Then a quick swooping in her stomach, a feeling of being turned completely upside down, and then she looked up just in time to see him with the remembrall in his hand before the two of them stumbled to the grass. Harry had caught it. One foot from the ground at the base of the walls of Hogwarts.
Hermione could hardly breathe.
"That … was … brilliant!"
Harry grinned at her and she couldn't dispute it. She just needed to be able to find her stomach again before she answered.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Hermione jumped up with Harry and their smiles sank further than they had dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them with dangerously flashing eyes.
"Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –" Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock and her glasses flashed furiously, "—how dare you – might have broken both your necks –"
"It wasn't his fault, Professor –"
"Be quiet, Miss Patil –"
"But Malfoy –"
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, come with –"
"Me too!" Hermione piped up furiously. "I was on the broom! I'm in trouble too, right?"
McGonagall looked down her glasses at her. "Yes, you are. However, like Mr. Malfoy, I'll be leaving your punishment to Professor Snape. Potter, follow me."
McGonagall trudged off with Harry and Hermione rounded on Malfoy who was snickering loudly.
-Excerpt Ended-
"You absolute jerk!" Hermione pointed her finger at him. "Do you just enjoy on being mean? First Neville, then Harry?"
Malfoy smirked. "Only to those who don't know their betters. Like you, mudblood."
Most of Gryffindor gasped, but Hermione didn't know the term. She'd ask later.
"Oi, watch your mouth, Malfoy!" Weasley yelled.
"My better?" Hermione stepped forward. "I don't see you in third year."
Malfoy's face clouded over. "You must have cheated your way through. Dumbledore's a muggle-loving fool."
Hermione felt it before she saw it. A whoosh of magic straight from the school to them, snapping right behind Draco.
"Am I, Mr. Malfoy?"
The Headmaster seemed to materialize out of nowhere, and Hermione looked up in horror. Not only Professor McGonagall, not only Professor Snape, but also the Headmaster himself was going to know about this fight. She could sink into the ground right then.
But the Headmaster's grave face was not for her; he was looking sadly at Draco Malfoy, and the boy in question had backed up in fear at the Headmaster's arrival.
"Sir-"
"I had hoped, that Hogwarts would be a place of learning for you, Mr. Malfoy, and not simply for magic," Dumbledore gently said. "It may still be. But perhaps you require a more proactive teaching."
Malfoy looked green. "Professor, I was angry. I didn't mean—"
"No, I doubt you did," agreed Dumbledore. He looked at him over his half-moon spectacles, his old eyes knowing. "Echoes cannot hold the same meaning as the words they repeat, can they?"
Hermione watched as Dumbledore regarded only Malfoy, a Malfoy who was becoming red-faced and angry at the man. She couldn't understand what was happening. Things he repeated?
"Perhaps, then, a learning experience!" Dumbledore announced with glee. "You will, of course, still be held to account by your Head of House, but for the meantime …"
Dumbledore turned to her, pinning her with a twinkling blue gaze. "Miss Granger, first I must grant you points for your steadfast defense of Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom. Ten points to Gryffindor."
Some of the class cheered, but Hermione saw that the Headmaster had more to say and stood at attention.
"We placed you in third year trusting you would be a mature, hard-working young lady," he praised her, and she beamed. "May I then ask for your assistance in Mr. Malfoy's punishment?"
Hemione nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."
"Wonderful!" He bounced back over to Draco, who looked absolutely murderous at what she'd said. "Mr. Malfoy, you believe Miss Granger does not deserve her advancement; perhaps you might learn some humility to attend all of her classes, sit by her, attend her tutoring session, and in essence, spend nearly every moment of every day by her side."
Gryffindor and Slytherin, Malfoy and Granger, all were horrified at his words but the magic was done. Hermione felt Hogwarts itself reaching out to her and Malfoy, pulling them together until they were clasped, Draco on Hermione's left and Hermione on his right, in an invisible tether.
"How dare you -!"
"Surely," Dumbledore interrupted, "if you think yourself better than Miss Granger you can keep up with her?"
Draco's hands gathered in fists. "Of course I can!"
"Then that settles it."
"Sir –"
"Your punishment will not extend past curfew," Dumbledore told them, "however I cannot say how many days it will last."
"You can't!?"
Dumbledore smiled at both of them. "Ah, you see, magic is a tricky thing. I believe this will last until Mr. Malfoy has learnt his lesson properly."
"But sir!" Hermione shrieked. "What about Sunday?"
Dumbledore's smile turned back into a beam. "Well, Mr. Malfoy will simply have to join you, won't he?"
Hermione shook her head. "But there are separate classes for boys and girls!"
"I'm sure a bright witch like you can think of something," Dumbledore winked. "Alright, now, as Madame Hooch has not returned, I believe this class is dismissed. Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, I also believe you were instructed to see Professor Snape."
Hermione tried to stomp away to her bag but found herself unable to moved more than five meters from Malfoy, who was enjoy the commiserations of his peers.
"Malfoy! Come on!"
"I don't think so, Granger," he sneered. "You'll just have to wait for me."
Fortunately, the castle seemed to know this situation wasn't her fault and when she tried to move again Malfoy was dragged after her.
"Hey!"
"Hey yourself!" she huffed, collecting her bag. "You know this would be a lot easier if you'd simply cooperate. Professor Dumbledore said to go see Professor Snape, so that's what we should be doing."
"Suck up."
Her steps up to the castle were brisk, pulling Malfoy along behind her. "Hey!" A smile graced her lips. At least she had the castle making things bearable.
Still, horribly, the blonde alternated between complaining and boasting all the way to the dungeons. "I can't believe I'm stuck to such a stick in the mud. Emphasis on mud." "My father is on the Board of Governors, you know; he won't put up with this. I bet he comes to the school the second he gets my owl." "You're not even going to speak to me, are you? This is going to be boring." "Professor Snape is my godfather. You're going to get it when he hears about this."
Finally they reached Professor Snape's office, which she knocked on briefly before opening it wit her bracelet. She justified it as an emergency situation, and luckily Professor Snape was at his desk as they marched into the room.
"What is this?"
Hermione's reply was cut off by the irritating blonde. "You won't believe it! Dumbledore stuck us together! Indefinitely! Crazy old coot. All because Granger and Potter couldn't leave well enough alone in class."
"Stuck you together?" Professor Snape looked from Draco to her, clearly directing the question.
Hermione nodded. "Although, I think he asked the castle to do it. It's too strange a magic to be an actual spell, and the magic is definitely coming from the castle itself. And we did not provoke Malfoy! He stole Neville's remembrall when he broke his wrist and when we asked him to give it back, he jumped on his broom – against the rules, mind you – and was going to hide it! He even tried to run me over when I stopped him!"
"Liar!" Malfoy pointed his finger at her. "She was pulling me towards her!"
"Yeah, and then you turned around and went straight for me!" she shrieked. "If Harry hadn't saved me I'd be in the Hospital Wing with Neville!"
"ENOUGH!"
Both students turned to their furious teacher.
"Now," he glowered at them, "why are you here?"
Malfoy's nose turned up in the air. "We're here for Granger's punishment."
"Mine?" she gasped. "No, both of us were sent here."
"Please," Malfoy scoffed, "I don't deserve to be punished, Uncle. Being tied to this annoyance is enough."
"Annoyance?!"
Professor Snape nearly growled at the pair of them. "That is quite far enough, Mr. Malfoy. If I didn't originally intend to punish you for your indiscretion, I would for your blatantly rude conduct towards another student."
There, that, at least, made the obnoxious blonde be quiet. Although his face was turning red rather quickly.
"Now, let me ascertain the facts," Severus clasped his hands. "Who disobeyed Madame Hooch and rode their broom first?"
"Malfoy."
The boy was silent, which he took as confirmation.
"And you, Ms. Granger, did cast a spell on a fellow student without supervision or permission?"
Hermione flushed. "I was aiming for the Remembrall! It was just the summoning charm."
He raised a hand. "That's a 'yes'. And Mr. Malfoy did, in fact, attempt to fly a broom at full speed at a fellow student?"
Malfoy's red face went even redder. "It wasn't that fast!"
"Did she have time to get out of the way? Without Mr. Potter's help?"
Malfoy was silent again, and Hermione shook her head. Severus glared at the boy.
"So, while Ms. Granger cast a charm that was not even aimed for you and even if it was would only force you to land your broom, you attempted to severely injure her."
It was a statement, not a question. Malfoy looked completely flabbergasted that Professor Snape wasn't taking his side in this and stomped forward.
"Who cares about someone like her?!"
Snape glared. "Careful, boy."
That reminded Hermione, and she frowned. "Malfoy, what you called me … What does 'mudblood' mean?"
Both men turned to her.
"It's what you are," Malfoy sneered, only to be roundly cuffed upside the head by Professor Snape. "Ow!"
"Ow?" he hissed, rising from his seat for the first time since they'd entered the room. "Ow? You use that slur here at Hogwarts where the Headmaster and every single young witch or wizard in the whole country could here of it and you dare to say 'ow'? It's no wonder the Headmaster has decided to punish you so. Foolish boy."
"But what does it mean?" Hermione pressed.
Professor Snape hoisted Malfoy by his arm and pressed him into the chair. "It means what is sounds like – muddy blood. A derogatory word for a witch or wizard born to muggle parents. It is a word Mr. Malfoy will give an apology for which you will accept and then never speak of again."
"Apologize?" Malfoy spat. "For what?"
"For your utter stupidity!" Snape roared. "Do you want three-quarters of the school to turn on you?! Do you want Dumbledore, every Head of House, and then every parent of every student here to look at you as a horrible, vulgar boy who cannot keep a civil tongue?!"
"But Uncle, she is!"
Severus rounded on him. "She is muggleborn, and that is the term you will use from this day forward. The other has been largely regarded as heinous for the better part of a decade and to use it would only bring disapproving eyes on you and your family once again."
Hermione frowned. There was something wrong here, the way Malfoy caved in on himself. It was how Harry acted sometimes. Like he felt ill.
Professor Snape sighed. "By the end of this you will make that apology, Draco. However, let's continue. What happened after your attempted assault of Miss Granger?"
They somehow managed to almost recount the same details to the Professor – Harry pulling her with him on his broom, Malfoy throwing it away from him and towards the castle wall, Harry and her barely managing to get it in time – while Professor Snape mediated the versions carefully.
"And at what point did Mr. Malfoy call you that name?"
Hermione frowned. "After Harry went with Professor McGonagall."
"So," he drawled, "after a professor caught all three of you in the act of endangering yourselves, breaking the rules, and fighting, you ignored her and started fighting again immediately after she left?"
"Yes, sir."
Professor Snape pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Regardless of the fact that Professor McGonagall should never have left you all alone, if you were not already being punished, I would have you in detention until Christmas." He turned his black eyes on them. "I've heard enough. You were both foolish and disobedient. I will have you both serving detention with me every Saturday morning until Halloween.
"Also, because of your poor conduct, I will be taking forty points from you, Draco." Severus cut off the brat's objection with a furious glare. "Ten for thievery, ten for your flying against orders, ten for your attempt to harm Miss Granger, and another ten for the slur you used in the presence of no less than thirty other students. As I cannot separate you for even more detentions that Miss Granger has not earned, you have forced me to take points from my own house. See that it doesn't happen again."
"You don't take points from Slytherin!" Draco protested. "You never do that!"
Severus glared. "And you have forced me to. That should impart upon you the severity of your actions. I am very displeased with you, Draco."
Draco slumped back then, sulking.
"Now, that apology?"
Draco huffed and glared, but no words left his mouth.
"You have a choice, Draco," Professor Snape's tone was deadly, "to either do as I ask, or be punished."
Draco was silent once again.
"Fine," Professor Snape turned away from the boy. "You should be aware that Miss Granger regularly joins me in brewing for the Hospital Wing as a means to teach her Potions. Since you cannot work together, in the times when she does the fun work of potions, I'm sure you can help with cleaning cauldrons and dissecting ingredients until you can manage a proper apology."
Still nothing. Draco was determined to remain absolutely silent.
"And you, Miss Granger," Severus turned to her, "I'm not unaware that you are in control of this spell the Headmaster has placed on the pair of you. It sounds as if Mr. Malfoy will be carried along wherever you go, and not you wherever he goes."
Hermione nodded hesitantly.
He smirked. "You might want to become familiar with Madame Pomphrey sooner rather than later. There should not be a first-year girl walking into any boy's lavatory, understood?"
Hermione gasped, then nodded furiously.
"Then off with the both of you. I have spent enough time dealing with you dunderheads, and you have tutoring now."
"Tutoring?" Malfoy haaed when they left the room. "So Miss Skips-the-Year couldn't even do it without tutoring?"
She'd be laughing later.
"What is all this?" Malfoy stabbed at the parchment with his finger. "All these scratches are the same!"
"No, they're not." Juni – or Juniper, as her parents insisted people call her – Quinn was getting frustrated. "Look, let me grab you the introductory lesson and then maybe in a few session we can get back to this level, alright?"
"Is she doing this worksheet?" Malfoy glared.
She sighed. "Yes."
"Then I will be too!"
Malfoy took longer than her by far, but he did manage to find all the runes in the textbook and give a fair – but not one hundred-percent accurate – translation. He'd done the using-the-textbook-so-thoroughly-he-read-every-page method when finishing the assignment for arithmancy too. But those were the two classes she was starting nearer the beginning for, and when they moved on to classes with practical exercises the distance grew immensely.
"Skurge!" Her little plate of goo shrank quickly and disappeared, earning an approving nod from Juni.
"That's the end of the second-year spells I had for you," the Hufflepuff told her. "We can move on to third-year once we get you caught up in Defense."
"Skurge!" Malfoy tried again, but with no difference.
Hermione put a hand on his arm to stop him trying again, but he drew away violently. "Malfoy, relax. You're doing the motion wrong, and you have the wrong emphasis on the word."
"Wrong empha-? Granger, it's one syllable!" Malfoy huffed. "Idiot."
"No, and rude!" she argued. "Yes, there's only one syllable, but you're nearly skipping over the 'k' when that is the most important part of it. You punctuate the 'k' sound with the final movement, not the first one, and you send your magic out with the same emphasis you send out the sound 'k'. Idiot."
Juni slammed her books closed and started putting them away in her bag. "Okay, we're done. You two should head down to dinner soon. Or kiss. That could work too."
"Kiss!?" Both of them recoiled in horror.
Juni laughed. "Well, it works in fairy tales. See you later, mini. Good luck."
It took half an hour of arguing for the unwilling pair to make it down to the Great Hall, and then Hermione realized what she had to do. It was either drag Malfoy over to Gryffindor – where he'd attack Neville, Harry, and any number of other people – or she'd be sitting with Slytherin. Before Malfoy could call to his friends or force her to the green table, Hermione made a bee-line to the third-years Slytherins and straight to the oft silent Anthony Price.
"Anthony, hi!"
The Slytherin table all turned to look at her. Most of the hall did too.
The boy in question merely raised an eyebrow.
"I guess you heard what happened in flying class, right?" she sat down next to him, ignoring the gasps from the hall and Malfoy sputtering behind her. "So I'm stuck to Malfoy now and I really don't think he should be near Harry, can I sit with you?"
He shrugged. "Sure."
Hermione beamed up at him. "Great! I mean, we don't know each other really well, but I thought, since we're partners in class and all –"
"Witch," Anthony's voice was low, but it always made Hermione be quiet since she had to work hard to listen to him, "introductions."
Then she looked at the people around him, the rest of the third-year class. It was true, she didn't know a lot of their names.
"Hello! Most of you probably know me, I'm Hermione Granger. I think I remember most of yours, but maybe we can, I don't know, get to know each other better –"
"No one wants to be friendly with you, know-it-all," Malfoy sneered behind her. The second years moved slightly over to let Malfoy in, and of course his other first-year friends Zabini and Parkinson. "Ugh, it's been such a nightmare tied to this loud, feral person all afternoon. She just won't shut up."
After all the things he'd said that afternoon, you'd think it wouldn't bother her. But being told to shut up had always been a sore spot for Hermione. Her mother and father forbade the use of such an ugly and impolite phrase in the house, and hearing it when she knew she was loud but always tried to be better made her feel a distinct painin her heart. She tried to think that way, to not let it bother her, but this had been a chance to meet people and make friends and Malfoy had just insulted her in front of everyone. It was different than when he was being tutored by someone she'd already met, or in front of Professor Snape or Harry. These were people who might listen to the little blonde bully. She was so angry at him, but her humiliation was more forefront and so it was tears that came this time. But she tamped them down, not letting them leave her eyes and hiding the evidence behind her hair.
"Draco," Anthony said next to her, but it wasn't a friendly greeting. It sounded … disgusted. "Apologize."
Hermione looked up in surprise, but she found that Anthony's face gave nothing away. He looked just as calm as he did when he saved a potion from one of their mistakes, or corrected her measurements, or even when he chuckled. Anthony was really quiet, so why was he standing up for her?
Malfoy, of course, looked offended. "Apologize? For what? It's the truth. And don't you think you can order me around, Price."
"Apologize."
Anthony didn't explain his order, just gave it again.
"N-o," Malfoy mouthed, over-enunciating. "Are you thick, Price?"
"No, but you are," one of the girls at the table pointed out. "No manners in you whatsoever. You just made the girl cry!"
"I'm not crying!" Hermione protested, but it fell on deaf ears.
More voices butted in.
"You belittled the heir to another pureblood family."
"And lost Slytherin forty points … from our own Head of House!"
"And," Marcus Flint, a big, tall boy with bad teeth leaned over, "because of you, Potter's on the Gryffindor team. Wood has been claiming the boy caught the snitch five times in just the two hours before dinner."
"Potter what?!" Malfoy yelped. "That's not fair! He's a first-year! It's not allowed!"
"He's Harry Potter!" Marcus growled. "He can do whatever he bloody wants! We could lose the Quidditch Cup to him because of you."
During this, Hermione tried to find Harry on the Gryffindor table and finally managed to make eye contact with the boy. He was happy, ecstatic, but when his eyes met hers it was guiltily. Probably because she was stuck with Malfoy. She gave him a congratulatory smile and thumbs up.
Malfoy huffed and slumped into his seat. "How was I supposed to know Potter could actually fly? He was raised by muggles!"
"Apologize."
Anthony brought them right back to it.
"No!"
The girls wouldn't let up though. "Why not?" "We all deserve an apology. That's more points than we've lost all week!" "Snape's going to hang you from his ceiling racks." "What does that attitude get you?"
"Don't," Hermione protested. She could see that Draco was become overwhelmed by the negative feelings around him. He should apologize, but she didn't want them to make him cry.
Then Anthony, again. "Apologize."
"I won't!" he yelled. "I don't care what you do, I won't apologize to this uppity little mudblood!"
That was a little too loud, especially since most of the students had been trying to listen in through their own stalled conversations. You could tell all of Slytherin and most of Ravenclaw had heard what Draco had said for the second time that day and that it was a worse word than Hermione thought it was with how the Ravenclaws – especially – shrieked in horror.
"Mr. Malfoy!"
Severus Snape was on the Headmaster's left side, glowering down at his godson as the walked towards them.
"How many points did I take off last time I heard of you using that word?"
Malfoy gulped. "Ten."
"Ten more points, then, from Slytherin."
Then entire hall stilled as Severus Snape took points from his own house, nearly all eyes either on the scene or the ten rising emeralds leaving the bottom of the Slytherin hourglass.
"You disappoint me."
Draco Malfoy shrank into his seat, away from his godfather's loathing looks.
"Headmaster, clearly you can see this isn't working," Professor Snape argued, pointing between Hermione and Draco. "I can find another suitable punishment for Mr. Malfoy, but there's no reason to keep them tethered so."
The Headmaster disagreed and looked on the pair of them with amusement. "It is only the first day, Professor. Besides, Mr. Malfoy wants to join Miss Granger in her third-year courses, do you not Mr. Malfoy? Proving that a girl your age can only do the things you can too? Tell me, how was the tutoring with Miss Quinn? Did you teach her a few things? Or Miss Granger perhaps?"
Malfoy's eyes spat venom at the Headmaster, but he said nothing.
"Remember, my boy, it is up to you how long this magic holds," reminded the old man, a twinkle in his eye. "When you have learned the lesson Ms. Granger can teach you, you will be free once again."
"What can she possibly teach me?"
The twinkle returned in full force as he motioned to the very people who'd been arguing with Malfoy before. "The same lesson each of these students have also been trying to teach you today, although perhaps not as kindly as they should. You must start to think of others, child."
Not even giving the boy a chance to respond, the Headmaster and Severus Snape returned to the High Table.
The whole table was subdued, but Anthony put his hand on the girl's shoulder in comfort.
"Thanks," she whispered.
After a few minutes of awkward quiet, Zabini had clearly decided it was enough and that he would be the one to break the awkward.
"So, Hermione Granger," he tested out the name, a mild Italian accent flavouring the words as the moved in his mouth, "that was an interesting stunt you and Potter performed in class. I've never seen two people fly so fast on the same broom."
"Oh," she blushed, "I wasn't really doing the flying. I just held on for dear life."
Zabini laughed. "It looked it, but I wondered. . . Are you and the Boy Wonder close?"
Hermione thought about it for a moment. They weren't in the same classes, and she really only helped them with homework … She was closer to Fred and George, but the first-year boys were on about the same level as her dormmates.
"Maybe," she decided on that. "I think we'll be friends, but we're not quite yet. I really just help Harry and his friends with homework."
Draco snorted, but warning glares abounded to keep him quiet. Zabini, though, snickered too.
"I'm almost jealous," he admitted. "They smart, pretty girl helping them."
It took her a second, but then she gaped. Malfoy made a retching noise in the background.
"You-huh? What?" she shook her head. "Oh! Uh, I think that's because of my roommates. Tara likes to do hair. Er, did you want help too? With your homework, obviously, not your hair."
Blaise chortled. "No, gattino. Don't worry."
"She doesn't sound that smart right now," Pansy protested, siding with Malfoy. "How did she get moved ahead?"
Anthony was the one who replied to that. "Ask the Professor."
Eyes swivelled.
"What do you mean?" Malfoy demanded.
One of his friends – another third year that Hermione didn't remember – interjected then. "It means Professor Snape thinks she's smart. Acts like she is in class, at least. Rumour is he was the one who moved her forward."
"No way!" "Really?" Why would he do that?"
They were all looking to Hermione for answers, and she jumped excitedly. "He met with me on my first trip to Diagon Alley, and after the meeting he said he'd help me move ahead. It was really nice of him."
"No, no, he wouldn't do that!" Draco protested immediately. "He would never let a—"
"Ahem."
His expression pinched, but he didn't finish the insult. "It must have been Dumbledore. If Uncle Sev was going to move someone forward, it would have been me!"
Hermione stood, fed up with this. People who were nearby saw her hair spark with anger. "You couldn't even keep up with the basic charms lesson we had today! That was review work for me, Malfoy, and you couldn't do it! Why can't I be in third year? Why can't I just have this?"
"Because you don't deserve it!" he roared. "You don't belong in the wizarding world!"
"Oi!"
She hadn't noticed them coming. Two shotgun barrels of red were fired towards her and she was immediately surrounded by the Weasley twins. They had braved the length of the Hall to come get her. An arm around each shoulders, their hands in synchronicity on their hips and their heads cheeks to cheek planted on top of Hermione's head.
"New friend, spitfire?" George took the lead this time, which was strange, but welcome.
Fred leveled his best mischievous smile down at Malfoy. "Oh, he's the silent one from the train, George! I think I liked him better than way."
"You're really-"
"stuck-"
"with this guy?"
Hermione turned and buried herself in Fred's chest, trying really hard to stop trembling. She hated being angry. Her skin seemed to boil, her body trembled, her mind felt so guilty afterwards … almost always her magic got out of control. It was a near thing, but it left her trembling so badly she would have run away if she could. But with Malfoy attached to her … I just want to hide. And Fred's robes might be a little coarse and scratchy, but they felt nice and there was a friend in them.
"Spitfire?" Fred jumped a little at the hug, but Hermione knew he could feel her shaking to suppress her emotions when his arm wrapped tighter around her. "Come on, laugh it off. How funny is it that this berk believes that nonsense and still calls himself intelligent in the same breath, eh? Ha!"
It worked, a little. Hermione chuckled out one wave of her shakes.
"Harry says his face was hilarious when you tried to summon him – broom and all – back to the ground," Fred laughed again, more earnestly this time, making her giggle. "And I hear you went for a bit of a ride yourself, eh?"
"Yeah, Granger," George joined back in, "we thought it'd take ages for us to convert you to the dangerous side of life. And itty bitty Harry got to you first?! The nerve of some people!"
That earned a genuine smile, although a bit chagrinned, as she came out of the side of Fred's robes.
"There you are," Fred grinned. "Now …"
Both twins rounded on the Slytherin table, but most of the snakes did not dare to antagonize the pair of Weasleys after two years of experience with the pair of them. Draco didn't know it yet, but he'd made some fearsome enemies.
"Now, you got our little friend here wrapped up in your punishment," Fred and George circled the blonde. "We spend lots of time with our little spitfire here, so we were going to offer ever so nicely to let you into our little group."
"But you know what, Gred?"
"What, Forge?"
"I don't think we should give him a choice."
"Sounds good, Forge."
"Oi, Slytherins!" Fred and George jumped on the table. "We come in peace!"
"No pranks!"
"Not today, at least!"
"Right-o, Gred."
The twins stood back to back, facing different directions.
"Malfoy's made himself an honourary Gryffindor!"
"I mean, he's stupid enough for it."
"So we're going to take him, 'kay?"
"All who want to keep the little twerp, raise your hands!"
Pansy and Crabbe and Goyle raised their hands, but the rest of the table either shrugged or shoved their hands far beneath their seats.
"A clear majority!"
"Democracy prevails!"
The twins jumped off the table and took Malfoy be each arm and dragged him – and by extension, Hermione – off to the Gryffindor table.
"What-? Get your filthy hands off me!" Malfoy protested. "I'm no Gryffindor!"
"And Granger's no snake," George shrugged.
"But she had a friend at your table."
"Don't you have one Gryffindor friend, Malfoy?"
Malfoy turned red. "Of course not!"
Their House had seen their approach and cleared a collection of seats for the approaching escort. Harry decided to lead the brave assault on that section and sat there, opposite the empty seats.
Hermione was exceptionally grateful that Fred and George had managed to keep her ready-made tears at bay because she was able to greet the timid boy with a beaming smile. "Harry!"
"Potter." Malfoy was plonked down on the benches, looking to the Head table for Snape but noticing that even though his godfather clearly noticed his plight he wasn't coming to the rescue. "Heard you got out of detention, did you?"
"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Harry said, ignoring Malfoy entirely. "I didn't know you were getting punished so bad. I thought I was getting expelled for sure, but Professor McGonagall didn't do a thing! I don't know why."
"Because you're a seeker, mate!" Fred and George grinned. "You didn't see how she looked last year when Slytherin won the Cup. Could have set fire to the sun, that look."
Hermione shook her head. "I'm glad you didn't get punished, Harry. You were very brave to defend Neville like that."
"Why bother," Malfoy muttered under his breath.
Fred and George slung themselves around him. "What was that, honorary lion? Something to say?"
Malfoy scowled, but shook his head furiously. It seemed he knew better than to insult a Gryffindor in Gryffindor territory.
"I'm sorry you got stuck with Malfoy," Harry whispered to her, probably too loudly but at least he was trying to not to say that directly to Draco's face. "It's unfair, really. You just did a spell, I'm the one who flew."
Hermione shook her head. "I don't think the Headmaster meant this as a punishment for me, per se. He said it was a 'practical lesson' for Malfoy. I think he's supposed to admit, I don't know, that I'm smart? Or not dirty? Something like that?"
"Well, so long you understand I don't mean a word of it, let's get it out of the way," Malfoy sniped. "Oh, Granger's so smart, she's the purest of us all."
He ducked under the arms of the twins and tried to make his way to the Slytherin table. He didn't make it far. He fell right on his backside as he reached the end of their invisible tether. Hermione flinched on his behalf as the Gryffindor table laughed at him. That sound was too familiar. Too much like bullying.
"Stop that," she snapped at all the laughing people. She went to Malfoy and offered to help him up, but he just snapped at her too. Great. "You really should have known better. Magic is about intent. It knows what you mean."
Severus was watching from the High Table as the twins dragged his godson over to the Gryffindor table and straight to Potter. It's clear the pair were using themselves as shields between Draco and Hermione and how volatile this arrangement clearly was.
"You must stop this, Albus!" Minerva hissed to the old man. "What will happen if his father catches wind of this?"
"Nothing, Minerva, dear," Albus chortled. "Hogwarts herself is the one who cast the spell. True, I may have given the suggestion, but …"
Severus ground his teeth together.
"Miss Granger has done nothing to deserve this," Minerva continued. "She was simply defending her friends."
He watched as Draco's face contorted into his father's disgusted sneer. Gods above, he was saying something foolish once again. All of Gryffindor watched as he flounced away – yes, flounced – and they laughed as he fell to his backside for the effort. His fists clenched as he watched the cruelty of public humiliation.
It pained him to see this all knowing that Draco was not a bad child, all things considered. He was a good friend to those he cared for, intelligent, and he did not have the malice in him that Lucius or his Black relatives did. He could be kind if only he wanted to be. He did better than could be expected of one raised by Lucius' antiquated ways. Yet it was the worst of him that people saw because of their own assumptions, the same ones they held for the dark Potions Master.
So he was surprised when Miss Granger turned sharply against her house in order to offer her hand to Draco. The boy, of course, rebuffed it, but the act itself was shocking enough. He'd heard the boy berate her, seen her fold herself into that Weasley boy's arms, her hair sparking with dangerous accidental magic in another fit of violent emotions that seemed all too close to the surface with that girl. He'd assumed with that violent of a reaction, the girl would harbor ill feelings for the boy. But it seemed that she ran hot in all aspects; her fury was a blaze, her pain smolder, but her kindness crackled with it too. And just as the fire in her, it was wild. There never seemed to be the same order to her feelings as there was with her mind.
An unfamiliar sense of pride swelled in his chest, but he ignored it. He certainly had nothing to do with that behaviour. Although … perhaps it was fair to say she had practised that forgiving, kind of behaviour on him. Yes, he'd let himself be proud of the brat for a moment.
"It seems Miss Granger is just the Gryffindor to help the boy, Minerva," Dumbledore motioned subtly to the commotion. "True, it would have been a mistake to pair him with a first-year, but Miss Granger seems just the ticket. A peer yet not, above yet equal. He just needs to start seeing her as a person – with the kindness that that entails – and the spell will be released. It shouldn't take long."
"I thought you did not concern yourself for petty school rivalries, Headmaster," snapped Snape, still watching the scene unfold. Draco was sitting once again at the table, this time eating so to avoid confrontation and wisely keeping his food from all other Gryffindors around him. This time, the girl sat closer and tried to spark a conversation. "I thought you said they were character building, and hardly evil."
The Headmaster frowned at him. "Can men not realize their mistakes?"
"Only when it benefits them," he mused, making Minerva sputter over her glass of wine. "So, tell me, what designs do you have for my godson?"
The Headmaster's eyes could see how tense Severus was, hands clenched, vein throbbing in his temple, his jaw so tight it could crack a walnut. He shook his head sadly at his employee.
"So quick to assume the worst, dear friend," he sighed. "Hogwarts was upset by the discord on the South Lawn today, unusually so, and I intervened. I'm aware I needn't have tethered them together, but perhaps it is for the best. Perhaps I simply wish for no child to leave this school thinking the way young Mr. Malfoy does."
"There are others who agree with him. Older students."
The Headmaster knew who he was speaking of, but refused to acknowledge it. "Not so vocally. Merely two weeks into school and our Young Mister Malfoy has become the most outspoken of them all. Perhaps setting him to rights will be enough for some of the others."
"Ah."
Severus turned to the headmaster with a malicious eye. "So, you see my godson as an obvious example more easily fixable than the others, is that it? He's to be your token gesture that you do reach out to the Slytherins and the purebloods and those who live in old traditions without actually reaching out to them specifically. A blanket action to draw people over."
Dumbledore shook his head at the young Professor. "You can only do your best, dear boy. It may seem hollow to you, but one good deed a day makes the world a better place."
Severus grumbled. "It won't be a good deed if the girl is harmed."
"Mister Malfoy wouldn't—"
"Not our Mister Malfoy," Severus said darkly. "You know what Lucius is capable of."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly. "True, but imagine if he saw some … advantage in this situation. Especially with how vocal his heir has been towards her."
Severus considered. The Malfoy patriarch was many things, but proud was certainly a primary quality of him. His public image was important. While some of their Azkaban-avoiding ex-compatriots wouldn't let such public faux-pas affect their business with the Malfoy family – in fact they may enjoy it and further enlist themselves to the Malfoy name – Lucius also had many business partners that he'd barely kept with light-side and neutral families. Once this incident leaked. . .
Perhaps his old friend should have a warning from the boy's own Head of House.