She was in the library working on that Genealogy for Harry, hoping to get it done by Christmas. The Potter line was easy enough to track and she traced it back five generations before giving up. For whatever reason the Potter's never had many children. Harry's only cousin from that side was a second cousin twice removed, that according to the most recently updated book on the Potter family, lived somewhere in the Himalayas as a Hermit.

The Evans family was both more difficult and easier. There was of course, his aunt and cousin but Harry didn't seem to have much interest in them (understandably). Muggle records she had found indicated that his grandparents had both moved to England from Switzerland and Iceland. Past that she had nothing.

Figuring it wasn't enough, she elected to work on Sirius' as well as Remus'. It was best to have the whole picture of these things. She had just started on tracking down Sirius' father's family when a butterfly with wings made of pages fluttered onto the parchment in front of her, quickly turning into a caterpillar before disappearing. She yelped in surprised before turning towards the stacks.

"10 points for destru-"

"Shhh!" Madam Pince glared at her, silencing her outburst.

Hermione glared in the direction of the stacks to her left. When she was just about to give up, she saw a glimmer of a green tie. Snapping the Black Family history book shut in her hand she marched toward the shelves, intent on catching the miscreants.

She made it two rows over before she came face to face with a familiar Theo Nott.

"Hey." He smiled awkwardly in the face of her anger, shifting awkwardly as she tapped her foot.

"Well?"

"I was just-"

"Did you damage a book?" she snapped. He quelled under her gazed for a moment before clearing his throat and straightening.

"Of course not. I conjured it."

Taking a deep breath she sighed, leaning against a shelf and clutching her book to her chest.

"Good."

"Merlin Granger," Theo groaned. "They aren't even your books."

"They are still valuable!"

"You looked like you were about to kill me!" He shifted his eyes around conspiratorially. "Blink twice if Madam Pince has imperiused you."

"Nott!" She couldn't help the giggle that slipped from her mouth and judging from the resulting smile he had accomplished his goal. She smacked him lightly with her book.

"Oh so you can abuse the moth food but I can't?" he questioned looking at the text. "The Most Ancient House of Black? Why are you looking into the Blacks? They're all dead except for-"

"Andromeda, I know." Hermione sighed, rubbing the cover. For as long as wizards lived, the recent generations had a penchant for dying early.

"Narcissa." Theo raised an eyebrow as he corrected her. "Draco's mother."

Hermione blinked, flipping open the book to the proper generation. She immediately shied away from it not wanting to see anything to do with Bellatrix. Studiously ignoring the scrawling black name, struck through with red to indicate the lack of heirs, her finger followed the lineage over to her sisters.

Andromeda was violently blotted out of course, but right next to her, Narcissa Malfoy's name spun in neat cursive letters. Her husband's name appeared beside it, both written in silver to indicate a marriage resulting in an heir. She traced the path down coming to rest on the bold, black letters of 'Draco Malfoy'.

"Oh."

She had no idea that Narcissa was a Black. Andromeda had rarely spoken of her sisters, not that Hermione blamed her, and Sirius only spoke of Andromeda and his "bat-shit crazy" cousin. It made sense logically of course, it had just never really connected in her mind.

"Dare I ask why you are looking into the rotted, incestuous tree that is 'the Most Noble and Ancient house of Black'?" Hermione was forced to release another giggle as he drawled out the title in an over-the-top, posh accent while executing a low bow.

"Can you do that?" she questioned. "You won't get struck by lightning or something?"

"Well I am talking to you and my lungs haven't seized up so I am pretty sure anything my father had threatened may have been a slight exaggeration." The light tone belied the underlying meaning. Hermione had to push past it, never knowing a Slytherin who wanted pity.

"Isn't your family just as bad?"

"I'll have you know the Nott's have been in England since the fourth century. Our Saxon ancestry boasts the highest regard for purity and strongly considered the anticipated engagement between myself and Narcissa a huge step down."

"You are joking?" Hermione gazed wide eyed at the boy in front of her. "She is old enough to… well be your mother."

"Yes, well apparently my oaf of a father couldn't manage to knock up an 'appropriately bred' witch in time. So that generation completely passed without me. I still think I had a chance mind you, but Draco really ruined things." He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled. "I think I got the good end of the bargain."

Hermione had to contain her laughter or risk being ejected from the library. If someone had told her two years ago she would be cackling madly in the stacks with a pureblood Slytherin about arranged marriages she would have sent them straight to the hospital wing. While she was still trying to get her breathing under control Theo spoke again.

"So, if you are plotting to murder my best mate for his fortune I am afraid that, in spite of the wife-stealing-bastard he is, I will have to tell him. You are no forty-year-old mother of my best mate, but you would make a great consolation prize. Wouldn't it be easier just to marry me rather than plot an assassination?"

"Nott!" She pushed back the wave of laughter again. "I'm doing research for Harry. Sirius was his godfather and when he died in the war he left everything to Harry."

"Ah." That awkward silence that always hung in the air whenever someone spoke of the war was just as thick as it had ever been.

"He… he doesn't have much in the way of family. He has me and the Weasley's of course… oh and Teddy." He looked at her curiously. "What? Oh not you! His name is Edward I think. Harry wants to leave the title to him when he's old enough."

"Oh good." Theo exhaled deeply. "My mother used to call me Teddy when I was a child and I did not want to question why one of the Blacks would know that."

"Oh come off it." She straightened. "Why did you lure me back here anyway? If you have to resort to kidnapping to get a girl to marry you, you aren't trying hard enough."

"I'll have you know there is a sordid history of kidnapping marriages in the Nott family. There might even be a happy one somewhere along the line."

"Nott!"

"Right. Sorry." Theo cleared his throat. "I slept through Astronomy last night and I know you took notes so could I by chance-"

"That's it?" she questioned, barely believing his audacity. "You pulled me back into the snogging stacks to ask for notes?"

"Did you want to be snogged?" A boyish smile slipped onto his face as he winked.

"Oh knock it off. Here." She summoned the requested notes from her table and handed the neatly rolled parchment over to him with a flourish. "Though why you wouldn't just come up and ask me like a regular human being- Oh."

She paused as he shifted awkwardly. The answer was obvious. She grimaced as he shoved the notes in his bag, trying not to let the behavior hurt her feelings. He seemed quite nice actually. She had been hoping… well. Can't change what people don't want to let go of. Particularly when it's bred into them. Even if he didn't claim to hold his father's beliefs anymore that didn't mean he wanted to be seen speaking with her in public. The rejection shouldn't hurt so much.

"I just-"

"Don't worry about it Nott." Her tone was clipped and he flinched, his smile disappearing as he glanced around. She deeply regretted handing off her notes now and she doubted she would get them back. Hermione turned to swiftly march away before her eyes noticeably began to shine.

"Stop it." He sighed a long-suffering sigh as she watched him.

"Stop what?"

"Taking that tone and looking like you are about to cry."

"I'm not-"

"It's not you. I just don't want-"

"To be seen with a mudblood." To his credit he flinched back violently at the word. "I get it. Don't want to have all your fellow snakes tease you. Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

When she tried to walk away his hand rested on her arm for only a moment before he snatched it back.

"Sorry. I shouldn't- I mean- It's not that at all. I just don't want you to be seen with me."

She stared at him a long moment, trying to make sense of the statement.

"I don't understand."

"Well since apparently you have not noticed I will fill you in." He scowled no longer the grinning boy he was five minutes ago. "I am a social pariah. No one talks to me. No one looks at me. If I ever address anyone I am at best ignored and at worst hexed. I just didn't want to drag you into it."

"That's awful! Who-"

"It's a fine Granger."

"It's not," she insisted. "You didn't even-"

"Thanks for the notes." He nodded, sliding his bag back onto his shoulder. "I appreciate it, really. I'll get them back to you later this week."

"Let me help," she pleaded.

"Nothing you can do. Besides," He smiled weakly but it was nothing in comparison to earlier. "Once I graduate, I can retire to one of my summer homes on the continent and I never have to be Theodore Nott ever again."

"But-"

"See ya Granger." He took a few steps away before calling over his shoulder. "It's almost dinner time. Don't forget to eat."

She cursed, checking her wristwatch and indeed finding that the afternoon had slipped away. She lightly guided the genealogy up and into the currents of magic that sorted books and watched it slip away.

000000000000000000000000000000000

Hermione had hoped she would have been lucky enough to miss the first quidditch game of the season but in light of the Harry Hols — which much to Ginny's pleasure had become a common colloquialism— the match had been pushed back until the first week of December. In light of her recent good mood (caused by her more frequent extracurricular activities), the boys saw no reason not to break into the head dorm and kidnap her for the game.

Ginny, being the only actual seventh year, was allowed to keep her spot on the team but for the sake of fairness none of the returning eighth years were allowed to try out. This meant that Ron and Harry had lost their spots but, it also meant that Ginny had what was objectively the loudest cheering section in the stadium.

Hermione flinched when the crackling sound of the speakers cut through the air. She turned to the announcer box, not sure who to expect when a warmly familiar voice echoed through the stadium. She couldn't help but be happy she had come.

"Hello! Quidditch fans. Welcome to the first game of the season: the legendary Gryffindor vs cheating, slimy Slytherin. Now as we all know, Gryffindor is the superior team-"

"Mister Jordan! You are already making me regret this!" Headmistress McGonagall's scolding could be heard through the speakers.

"Sorry Minnie. Er, Minerva? Still no? Okay. Sorry Headmistress. In any event! That's right. I am your commentator Lee Jordan, better known as Rivers of Potterwatch!"

The crowd roared, whether it was at the nostalgic commentary between the older witch and Lee or the mention of the radio show that got a good portion of the students through the war was unclear.

"Speaking of Potterwatch, Mister Potter himself can be spotted over in the Gryffindor stands this game along with the rest of the eighth years. Rubbish logic if you ask me-"

"Mister Jordan!"

The two of them bickered until the teams marched out on the field, Ginny's hair serving as a beacon to the eye. She and her fellow chaser, a fifth year Hermione didn't recognize, were leading the pack. It was almost wrong only seeing one head of Weasley hair on the pitch, for as long as she had known the game there had always been at least two. Her heart twinged as she glanced over to Ron, shouting encouragement to his younger sister from his seat.

They took to the air and Hermione quickly realized that the only thing that made quidditch stomachable was knowing half of the team. Hermione could only place one of the other fliers and it was only because she had caught the beater with a Wizarding Wheezes product three nights ago and given him detention.

The game continued on for a terribly long time, neither seeker being practiced enough to catch the snitch. This eventually led to Harry stomping as close as he could to the top of the stands screaming out advice at the top of his lungs. Which may have been productive if the Slytherin seeker wasn't also listening.

Her eyes drifted around the stadium, looking for a flash of blonde she found herself scanning for more frequently as of late. Not much was said in their quick rendezvous. He found her, they had wild, passionate, aggressive sex and then he left as soon as they were done. Occasionally with a quick healing charm if he had done too much damage to hide. It was an odd arrangement, Hermione knew that. She felt a bit cruel for it. She had never been raised to just use another human as effectively as she used Malfoy. They both kept their emotions separate, there was an unspoken rule to avoid each other's buttons and keep talking to a minimum. She was not a mudblood, he was not a Death Eater. They were both no one to each other and it's why it worked. She resolved that if they kept things going they way they had been, she would limp to graduation and set about finding a more permanent partner.

Shaking out of her stupor by the sound of cheering she leaned over to make a comment about the future Potter children to Ron when she noticed his empty seat.

"Have you seen Ron?" she asked Dean, who was screaming behind her as Ginny sank a goal.

"Said he was going to the bathroom but that was a few minutes ago." He replied when things calmed down enough he could look away (which in Hermione's opinion was always).

Very soon Hermione got that nagging feeling that something was off, not wrong, just off. She excused herself, heading down to the ground level and casting a patronus to send to Ron. Just as she set about following it, she was bombarded by three silvery shapes, a hare, fox and even Harry's stag, all with the same variation of a message. "Is everything alright?"

Hermione instantly chastised herself, waving the all clear to multiple people already heading down the stands. She should have known better, drawing attention like that. Luckily they all saw, halting their movement to return to their seats. Completely missing where her otter had swam off to, she waited until she was behind the great curtains that lined the wood of the pitch to cast it again.

She didn't have to follow for long. Ducking just under the stands, she spotted Ron's hair peeking out above her, a veritable flame in the comparably dingy background. He was sitting on the wood of a rickety joist about twenty feet up that looked unable to hold his weight let alone the weight of the hundreds of people above them.

"Ron?" she shouted up, watching him jump and flick something away. His face appeared over the beam, smiling down at her.

"Oh, sorry Hermione." Ron rolled off the beam causing her heart to catch in her throat. He dropped slowly, swearing mildly as he hit the ground awkwardly despite the featherfall charm. "Didn't mean to leave you up there alone."

"Don't worry about that." She narrowed her eyes stepping closer. Something earthy smelling tickled at her nose. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah… Just fine." When he responded, he lifted his hand up to rub at his head sheepishly. Something he always did when he lied.

"Ron…" She tried again, stepping close enough to definitely pick out something familiar from the scent.

"Really Hermione. I was just-" What ever he was going to say was interrupted by a small rectangular packet of cigarettes falling out of his sleeve. "Oh bugger."

"Ronald Weasley!" she gasped as he snatched up the packet with red ears. "Those are awful for your health!"

"I know. I know," he sighed, resigned to his lecture. "Look harp on me all you want, just don't tell mum. She'd have a cow."

"Of course she'd have a cow. She almost lost you to a war and now she's risking losing you to lung cancer!"

"Look it's not that big of a deal." Ron rolled his eyes.

Much to her horror he withdrew a stick and stuck it in his mouth. Lifting his hand he lit it with a snap of his fingers. It was also so natural it must have been practiced.

"Five points from Gryffindor," she gritted out.

"Oh, come on!"

"It's against school rules!"

She crossed her arms, simultaneously wanting to get close enough to pinch his ear but also stay far away enough she didn't have to smell it. It wasn't as bad as she remembered from her Great Uncle. The man constantly smelled like an ashtray. Ron smelled… well still like smoke but more… natural.

"How long?" she demanded.

"A while. Since fifth year really. I started back up this summer." He exhaled away from her, the cloud of smoke drifting softly in the air before dissipating.

"I am disappointed in you."

"Oh and you're so much better? At least I can get through the day without someone reminding me to eat!" he snapped, his temper flaring predictably. She knew her face had crumbled by the immediately contrite look on his. "Sorry. That was… I didn't mean…"

"I find that no one means anything," she responded coldly, Malfoy's words from the beginning of the year echoing in the back of her head. She stared at him for a long moment, until he refused to meet her eyes and looked away.

Letting go of her anger, she walked over to his side and summoned the pack to her hand. He groaned in exasperation as she studied it.

Hermione supposed wizards did have longer lives and probably even had treatments for this sort of thing. She took an exploratory sniff, pleased to note the mild spiciness instead of the usual bitterness of chemicals. A curious new thought planted in her head.

"Well...We've already nearly died once, may as well play the odds. Give me a leg up."

Ron's face slid back into a goofy smile, the cigarette hanging off his lip as if it were meant to be there. He laced his fingers together, boosting her onto the beam he had previously occupied with the help of a levitation charm. Not even a few seconds later he joined her, lighting up another and handing it to her.

"What do I do?" she questioned holding the burning end of the stick as far away from her as possible.

"It won't bite 'Mione." He chuckled lightly guiding it back to her lips. It was almost an intimate gesture. It may have been if they hadn't already fallen apart once.

"Now just inhale, but not too deeply or-" Hermione began coughing, almost falling off the beam even as Ron stabilized her. "Yeah that."

He conjured a large glass of water for her, waiting for her to take a sip before leaning back again. She swallowed the water in large gulps, coughing half of it back up as she tried to extinguish the burning in her lungs.

"This is awful."

"Don't worry. Remus says everyone does that their first time."

If he noticed the slip he didn't correct it, waiting patiently for her to sip at the glass while holding her fag. She grimaced at it when she got control of her breathing again. "Do I have to?"

"No," he responded, just as a roar sounded above them, Lee announcing a score by Ginny. Ron's eyes darkened slightly, so quickly she almost missed it. He turned back to her and settled against the beam. "But the second one is better."

"Ginny says the same thing about Vodka." She groaned halfheartedly, staring at the dart dubiously.

"You still drink it though."

"That I do," she agreed.

Ron tucked his hands behind his head as he watched her. With much more care she sucked in another breath of smoke, the burning sensation much less abrasive and taking on an almost Christmas-y flavor. She exhaled, trying to place the source when Ron answered.

"It's clove," he provided, watching her inhale again. "Lavender says the regular ones give her headaches even if I had tergeo'd it."

"And it didn't occur to you to just stop?" she questioned, slowly getting the hang of it.

After a few moments she felt slightly lighter. Nothing at all like drinking but just more… relaxed. It was very subtle and she would have missed it if she hadn't been looking for it.

"Not sure if I could at this point." He shrugged, blowing smoke rings in the shape of twisting dragons. She wondered how she had never noticed his habit before.

"Don't beat yourself up 'Mione." He chuckled, knowing her far too well for her own good. "I was good at hiding it. Didn't have the time or money when we were on the hunt and before that we had such different classes I could usually slip away."

"Does Harry know?" She watched the Dragons split and fade away.

"Nope, just Charlie. He caught me the summer of sixth year." Which would explain the dragons. "It just keeps me level is all."

"You do have quite the explosive temper," she agreed taking another drag. They sat in silence enjoying the sounds of the game above them.

"Hermione… where do you go when you aren't here?" he questioned tapping the ash off with a flick of his wrist. There was a moment of sheer panic until she realized he meant when she spaced out, not when she slipped away to find Malfoy.

"Nowhere really."

She was glad to have something in her hands she could fiddle with while she spoke. A lot of people thought Ron was stupid, and while his temper made him speak without thinking frequently, it had no bearing on his actual intelligence. If he wanted an answer badly enough, he would get it.

"It's like… I focus on everything so I can't focus on anything. It feels like wandering through a thick fog, with only vaguely blurry lights leading the way."

"Sounds nice," Ron mused.

"It's hell for me," she murmured, trying to hang her cigarette off her lip like he did.

It tumbled onto her stocking, burning at her skin. She hissed, batting away the ember and cursing the loss of her only Gryffindor striped pairs.

"Guess I'll need another one, huh?" she laughed.

But when she looked up, Ron's cigarette had fallen as well, his mouth hanging partially open as he stared at her leg. Glancing down she cursed at where the hem of her skirt had ridden up, a fading bite mark on her inner thigh revealed.

"Shite," she swore, scrambling to adjust her skirt while fighting a heavy flush. Long, heavy school robes would have been a much better choice. Ron remained silent, staring at the now covered skin as anger flashed behind his eyes.

"Hermione…" he warned, the tone in his voice on the edge of an absolute tantrum. "What's-"

"Ron," she cut him off, her tone strict as she glared off to the side. "Don't."

"But that-"

"I know." She smoothed over the skirt self-consciously. "I know. I didn't get on you about the cancer sticks, leave me alone about mine."

Hermione risked a glance up to where he was watching her warily. He was clearly warring against his initial reaction. With a deep sigh he leaned back against his post lighting another one but not offering it to her.

"Merlin. Sisters are a bloody nightmare." He groaned, his eyes flicking down to regard her. "It's not McLaggen is it?"

"No!" she cried out in disgust, her face crinkling up to match his. Seeing some of the tension in his shoulders release, she let herself settle back against the joist, subtly placing a sticking charm on her skirt.

"Who is he?"

The question sent a shiver down her spine. It was such a stupid situation, she should have been more careful. Hell, if he had been any other boy he may have taken a peek up her skirt when helping her up and no amount of nicotine would have stopped that rampage.

"You don't want to know." She heard Lee call out the snitch catch and thus the victory to Gryffindor. Ginny would be having a good time tonight.

"I really do," he countered, eyes still flashing. "Me and Harry have to do the scary brother thing. I never really got the chance to with Gin since he's my best mate but-"

"Trust me Ron," Hermione interrupted, watching his eyes narrow. "It's a bad idea. I promise you that I am safe and doing all of the things I should be doing."

He paused, listening to the feet begin to rush to the common room, prepared for yet another wild Gryffindor party on the heels of their victory. Finally he snubbed out his cigarette and offered his hand.

"Fine. But promise you will come to me for whatever. I… I promise not to get mad… at you… much" A familiar friendly smile spread on his face.

"Promise." She smiled back and grabbed his hand.

He pitched his weight forward, sending them careening toward the ground only to land lightly on their feet. She felt the first tendrils of their friendship creeping back for the first time since fifth year.

"And for Merlin's sake stop wearing skirts. It's bloody winter anyway."