July 31, 1991
Narcissa Malfoy was not exactly an honest wife. She had lied to her husband so many times before in order to get what she wanted. She was perhaps one of the most cunning witches of their generation, however, her upbringing and marriage had proven to be constraints in achieving her own personal greatness. She could have taken any job she wanted. She could have done more. Alas, her husband prohibited her from working a day in her life.
She lied to Lucius to compromise for the limitations he had locked into her life. She got revenge at every turn, lying at every chance she got. It was also an added bonus to be the keyholder to her family's vaults at Gringotts. Both of her family's vaults. She withdrew money and precious jewels from the Malfoy vault without so much as a hint to her husband. Whenever Lucius would need money for an investment or otherwise, it was Narcissa whom he instructed to take the trip to Gringotts.
He trusted her and that was his mistake.
There were several properties around the world that were under the Malfoy name that Lucius was oblivious to. She also owned many islands and exotic magical animals for the sole purpose of her pleasure. Hermione's money, too, was from the Malfoy vault. The girl was not a Lestrange nor an Avery so she couldn't have been granted any form of access, anyway. She had only told Lucius that her money would be from her supposed family's vaults to placate him, and in the end, Narcissa gave Hermione a sizable amount as her allowance for Hogwarts. Narcissa wasn't worried that they'd run out of galleons, for six generations of Malfoys could live luxuriously without working a day in their lives, and still have enough money to feed a small country. So Narcissa took what she wanted when she wanted it.
And to be fair, it wasn't like Narcissa was the only liar. Lucius was a liar too. He was busy bedding different girls every Saturday night. Maybe, if he actually paid attention to his wife, he'd realize that she was smarter than he let on. Narcissa had always known… and she had moved on long, long ago.
Lucius would eventually find out about her financial liberations one day. By then, she would be ready to throw his mistresses in his face. She was certain that he'd let her keep everything she bought, just so she wouldn't give an anonymous tip to Rita Skeeter about her husband's infidelity. She was certain.
She devoted her life to fooling her husband, no matter how petty. She'd plot her revenge plans day and night in several ways. She dipped his toothbrush in the toilet every three in the afternoon and got rid of one of his left shoes whenever there was a full moon. And of course, she also devoted her life to being a good mother to her only son, Draco. His Hogwarts letter had arrived via owl four mornings ago, along with Hermione's, and a wave of sadness washed over her. He was growing up and going to Hogwarts where he'd make new friends and keep his mother out of mind for a few months. She was mentally preparing herself for several months of loneliness. There would be no sound of children chatting in the living room, or classes held in one of the spare rooms, or games of tag in the foyer. Instead, she would be forced to live with the cold remnants of her nonexistent marriage. Narcissa realized that she had to find some form of amusement whenever her son was in school. She put that idea aside for now and focused on the task in front of her.
Narcissa turned to Hermione. "Glamour charms," she said, "are mandatory for every young lady before going to Hogwarts… for us Purebloods, especially. One must maintain an air of effortless perfection to her appearance. You will perform these charms on yourself daily when you wake in the morning, Hermione. Understood?"
"Yes, Narcissa." She paused, looking at Narcissa's reflection from the mirror of the loo. "But… I've a month to go before Hogwarts. Why have we got to do this now?"
"Because, little one, we are going to Diagon Alley today, where your Hogwarts schoolmates will see you for the first time. You will make your impression on them, and you'd better hope that you do it well. These impressions will help you get what you want in Hogwarts. You're very smart, little one, but you must take advantage of the element of surprise. You mustn't let them know how brilliant you are… not until you've outranked them in every way possible. By the time they realize it on their own, it will be far too late."
She lowered her voice into a mere whisper in a conspiring manner. "Understand this, Hermione: we women are often overlooked by everyone else. We are not considered threats because men think we're only around to look pretty." She spat out the last word. Narcissa touched the top of Hermione's head. "So instead of fighting back, we let them think they're right. We use it to our advantage. Let them learn never to underestimate a girl."
Narcissa took the hairbrush on the tabletop and started combing through Hermione's ever-thickening brunette locks. "Plus," She continued, "the charms don't hurt."
She demonstrated them with her wand as she asked Hermione to show her teeth. She shrunk Hermione's large front teeth with a careful spell she had written on parchment for Hermione to use in case they grew back. Narcissa took her hair and thinned it, eliminating all frizz. Hermione's hair fell in shiny chestnut locks all the way down to her chest. She ran her fingers through them, delighted when she discovered no tangles. Next was her face. She didn't need it yet, but Narcissa demonstrated what to do if her skin started breaking out with blemishes like pimples or blackheads. With her wand, she also got rid of the scattered hair in between her brows and on her brow bone. She showed her how her cheeks can glow the most flattering shade of pink with another written spell. Her lips, Narcissa added, she must moisturize with a balm every night, and no magic will be needed.
A list of the most basic healing spells has also been written down and given to her. They would fix any bruise, discoloration, and eyesight impairment. Narcissa informed Hermione that she shall never resort to the most atrocious form of eye correction known as glasses—she said in disgust.
After the whole process, Hermione barely recognized her reflection. If she was being honest, she felt a little bothered. Hermione was a modest girl. She was never really the type to care about her appearance too much, and the teeth-shrinking spell would have sufficed. She stared at herself now, half in awe and half in discomfort. Narcissa noticed this.
"You will observe that your other friends also had several charms done today. I, for one, know that Pansy Parkinson will have her lisp corrected, and Millicent Bulstrode's waistline will be taken in." Later, Hermione will realize that Narcissa was right. "If you do this often enough, your body will adapt. Your bones will grow following these charms, and you will be conditioned as such. By the time you turn fourteen, you will not need the same charms any longer. By then, I will teach you new ones for older age. It is a custom, dear girl. A Pureblood one. Now," she spun Hermione around. "All the others are in the Manor, waiting for us. Are you ready?"
Hermione turned back around and stared at her reflection—at the girl she didn't recognize—and nodded obediently.
Madam Rosier was emotional as she and all of her students Flooed to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies. They had all received their Hogwarts acceptance letters four days ago, and they couldn't wait to start the term. Hermione was jittery in anticipation. She had prepared herself for this moment since she was five, and she couldn't believe all her years in Madam Rosier's class was coming to a close. She could tell that her Governess felt similarly by the glistening tear in the corner of her eye that she quickly wiped away. Narcissa, too, looked a tad melancholic as she accompanied them. Only Lucius was looking indifferent, eyeing a pair of Muggle parents with his nose up in the air.
They were taking a break in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, for they had been roaming around all day, purchasing wands, cauldrons, and school books. Earlier, Narcissa had insisted that the ladies break away from the group to make a quick stop at Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions to pick up remedies for emergency cosmetic situations. The boys agreed, and Lucius accompanied them to get fitted at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The girls would get fitted after the ice cream break.
The table was shared by Hermione, Pansy, Daphne, Tracey, and Millie; Narcissa and Madam Rosier sat to their left. The girls had been receiving curious, almost wary glances from people who walked past them as well as the ice cream parlor's customers. A pair of teenagers had even come in, stopped in their tracks, and stared at them before grunting, "smells like privilege." They had left right away. The girls were unfazed, however, because it wasn't their first time going to Diagon Alley as a unit. They had done so every subsequent year, so they were used to getting dirty looks. Although they usually visited when the older students were at Hogwarts.
Hermione also had a feeling that Lucius and Narcissa tagged along to scare reporters from the Daily Prophet, lest they be on tomorrow's front page. The last time they had all gone to Diagon Alley without the Malfoys, they were borderline harassed by multiple reporters. An article had been written about it on the Daily Prophet the day after.
NEW-BLOODED PUREBLOODS: Will They Follow Their Families' Fishy Fantasies? Read about the Malfoys, Lestranges, Notts, and more on page 3.
The bell above the door jangled, signifying new customers. In walked Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Theo, Draco, and Lucius Malfoy. The younger boys pulled up tables and chairs to join the girls. Draco scanned the girls' ice cream flavors; cake batter, honeycomb & sea salt, butterbeer, triple chocolate, and blackberry. He decided that he favored butterbeer the most, so he sat next to Hermione and took an extra spoon, helping himself to her ice cream. She pushed it towards him. She didn't mind—she wouldn't have been able to finish it all, anyway. The other boys did the same as well with the other girls… except Crabbe and Goyle, who had bought their own banana split for the two of them to share.
Upon the boys' entrance, some other customers had stood and left, leaving their ice cream bows unfinished. There were only a few who stayed. One odd-looking teen had the nerve to openly glare at them. At this, Draco glared back, and so did Crabbe and Goyle. After scaring all the customers away, Hermione came to another recurring realization: Draco was practically a bully to the people he didn't know. She had already known this for years, but still, it surprised her. He was kind and respectful around them, but the opposite with people of lower rank. She considered herself lucky to have been his friend from an early age because she would not like to be on the receiving end of one of those deadly glares of his.
"How was the robe-fitting?" Asked Daphne.
Theo responded, "Pretty boring. We took turns in the robe shop and in Quality Quidditch Supplies. I reckon my dad's going to get me a new broom soon. Mine's wasting away in the old shed. We've had good times, but it's time for her to go."
"I, for one, can't wait to get new robes." Proclaimed Millie. "I absolutely need to buy clothes that actually fit me, now that I've lost all my baby fat." She gave a smug smile.
Hermione stared at Millie. It was astounding to see how differently she looked yesterday. Narcissa was right. Hermione's transformation that morning was negligible compared to Millie's, or even Tracey and Daphne's. Millie was now as skinny as Tracey. Her cheekbones were higher, back straighter, and fingers no longer stubby. Daphne and Tracey too, looked as if they had matured overnight—which they probably did. Only Pansy looked as untouched as Hermione if one could even call it that.
As Draco took another bite of Hermione's ice cream, he gave her an unsubtle sideways glance that Hermione pretended not to notice. He had been glancing at her all day, and she wondered whether it was due to her transformation that morning. He also walked a little closer to her and paid more attention to the things she was saying. She had caught his eyes lingering on her face twice that day, even if it had been a full minute since she made her comments, and the conversation had already moved on.
Hermione blushed. At that moment, she understood what Narcissa had meant when she told Hermione that she must take advantage of her appearance in order to mislead unsuspecting peers. However, she realized that if anyone knew how brilliant she really was, it would be Draco. After all, his scores were almost as good as hers—and he would most definitely not forget how hard he had worked to beat her. It was too bad he never did, really.
"...could've sworn he was part-giant." Blaise had been saying. "Massive thing, he was."
"Is that why you called me to the window?" Asked Theo.
"Yeah, but you were too busy ogling a pair of gloves."
"I saw him," said Draco. "I was getting fitted with another boy. He was a first-year too, I could tell. We were just talking and then the giant appeared outside the window in front of us."
"Saw who?" Hermione asked, taking a spoon and dipping it into their shared ice cream before popping it into her mouth.
Draco shrugged. "A giant creature. His name is Hagrid. He works for Hogwarts. My father told me that he's some sort of servant. The other boy called him a gamekeeper."
"Guess we'll be seeing him around a lot." Said Pansy. She was a lot more comfortable talking now that she spoke without a lisp.
"I hope not. I heard he's a savage. I've been told he can't do magic well. He also gets drunk a lot, apparently." Draco said in a bored drawl.
They talked about running into people they had already known from before: Marcus Flint, Adrian Pucey, and Terrence Higgs. According to Tracey's parents, the older kids were already in the Slytherin Quidditch team that Draco, Theo, and Pansy wanted to try out for. Then, the conversation moved to how unfair it was that first-years couldn't play in official Hogwarts Quidditch teams yet. "The stupid rule should only be applicable to Mudbloods and other students who didn't spend their whole lives playing on brooms," Millie said.
Just then, the adults stood and instructed them to finish their bowls of ice cream soon because the ladies needed to go and get fitted before the place got over-crowded.
September 1, 1991
FIRST YEAR
Hermione stepped onto the Hogwarts express behind her friends. She walked with her chin up and wrinkled her nose haughtily at the blatant display of horseplay and hooliganism from her fellow first-years. Several boys and girls were chasing each other up and down corridors, some wearing uniforms, and some in Muggle clothing. There was a short boy in the corner of the train cart who looked like he was crying and asking for his Mummy. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked away.
"Honestly," She muttered. "How barbaric can they get?" Hermione side-stepped a disgusting sock on the floor and tried not to gag.
She noticed that other students tended to stare at them, probably because they felt that these kids were different. They were obviously mature enough not to cause any sort of disturbance in their wake. Others already knew who they were, judging from the scowls they sent their way. Some stared openly, while some glanced and whispered to their friends while jabbing their fingers in their direction.
At the end of the hallway: "There are no more empty compartments!" cried an exasperated Daphne, throwing her hands up in the air.
"Nonsense," Pansy replied.
Hermione furrowed her brows. She, too, had seen that all private compartments had students inside of them. She followed the group being led by Pansy down the opposite side of the hall, before stopping at a compartment where its only occupants were only a pair of wide-eyed twin girls. She slid the door open all the way.
Pansy didn't say a word. In fact, she had only stared down her nose at the fraternal twins. Everybody else did the same, and eleven tense seconds went by. They were truly an intimidating sight, the ten of them, what with their pristine and pressed robes, freshly-glamoured looks, wands, and unsmiling faces.
One of the twins stared back defiantly, but the other looked downright scared. She clung to her stronger sister's arm like a sloth.
Pansy said slowly, "Is this compartment taken?" She arched a brow and smiled the kind of smile that would have Hermione shake in her boots.
The scared-looking twin quickly said, "No, it isn't." She tugged hard on her sister's sleeve and said discreetly, "Parvati, let's go. Now ." She pulled her sister up from the seat.
Soon, the two scurried away. "Good one, Pans," commented Draco. Pansy and the others entered the now-vacant compartment, but Hermione turned her head, her eyes trailing after the retreating figures. The braver one, Parvati, was looking back at them with an angry glare. Hermione was used to this. Her friends were bullies. Perhaps she, too, was a bully whenever she was around them. She looked away and stepped into the room.
"Who were those?" Asked Theo.
"Half-bloods," Pansy said, sinking into the chair.
"Oh." That was all that was said about them.
Soon after the Hogwarts Express had departed King's Cross, a woman who was pushing a cart of sweets passed by their compartment. Their eyes lip up and everyone bought a generous amount of confections and treats, for they were all quite hungry from today's anticipation. They needed their fill of candy.
Hermione excused herself to use the loo after sitting so still. She walked to the loo and groaned inwardly. There was an existing line, she realized in irritation. Bitterly, she sighed and waited for her turn. The girl in front of Hermione suddenly turned her head around. She took one look at the Lestrange and glowered, losing her spot in the line to get as much distance from Hermione as possible.
Hermione was unfazed. She thought, good—the faster I get to the loo, the faster I'll get out.
After five minutes, Hermione walked back to her section of the train. She passed by multiple compartments (as theirs was farther down), and did a double-take at one of them, not believing her eyes.
A lanky boy was seated inside, petting a sleeping rat. His clothes looked old and worn-out as if it had been passed down every generation. His hair was also very, very red. From her friends' stories, she deduced that this boy was probably a Weasley. But the Weasley was not why Hermione's eyes nearly bulged. There was a skinny boy seated across the Weasley. He wore a pair of black circular glasses, and his black hair was parted to the side, showing what looked like a scar in the shape of… was that a lightning bolt?
Hermione gasped. It was Harry Potter.
She hurried her way down the hall and entered their compartment.
"Harry Potter is down the hall to the left." She said in a rush.
"Harry Potter? As in… the you-know-what?" Asked Daphne.
"The very one. Lightning scar and everything. I think," Hermione hesitated, realizing that she had only looked at him for a second. "He was with a Weasley."
Pansy said, "Right, yeah, he's in our year, isn't he? I heard he'll be attending Hogwarts with us."
Draco sprung to his feet. "I've got to meet him. If what you're saying is true, 'Mione, then we need to befriend him. Can't have Harry Potter gallivanting about with Weasleys, can we? Crabbe? Goyle?" The two looked up from their empty pile of sweets. Draco motioned for them to get up with a nod of his head. Together, the three of them exited the compartment. Hermione sat on the seat previously occupied by Draco.
Blaise sniggered and made a comment about Malfoys who can't help but exert dominance over the lower class. Everyone laughed.
"Wait… Harry Potter? Who's that?" Asked Tracey.
Hermione's brow arched at Tracey's ignorance. They had literally just studied him last year with Madam Rosier. Judging from everyone else's silence, they all thought the same thing. Still, she answered proudly, "Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord when he was a year old, remember?"
Theo clutched his chest and feigned agony. "His parents were killed horribly, but the boy lives on. The bloke lives with his Godfather now. Black—Sirius Black, I think."
"How'd he do it if he was a baby?"
"Love, or some other bullshit," commented Blaise, studying his nail beds. "If he really defeated the Dark Lord at that age, he could probably freeze hell over by now."
"Think he'll be in Slytherin?"
"Dunno, never met the guy."
"I think so," announced Daphne. "He did kill the Dark Lord."
Hermione countered, "But what if that counts towards his more Gryffindor-like qualities?"
At the same time, Daphne and Blaise said: "Perhaps," and "Ugh. Gryffindors."
"I'd eat my own toes if I were sorted anywhere but Slytherin." Said Millie, holding an enchanted mirror up to her face. "I suppose Ravenclaw's not so horrible, but I don't like being around a bunch of know-it-alls every day. No offense, Lestrange." She said, not sounding sorry at all.
"None taken," Hermione muttered under her breath. She knew that Millie wouldn't end up in Ravenclaw anyway, if her grades were any indication. "Gryffindor's not so bad, though, is it?" She asked her friends.
"It's completely atrocious," said Blaise with a wrinkle of his nose, who, Hermione realized, was very much against every other house but Slytherin. "Although not as bad as Hufflepuff. But my whole family's from Slytherin. Yours too, Lestrange. And Nott. And Green—you know what, all our families are from Slytherin, so there's really no point in wanting anything else. Besides," he paused. "Slytherin's the best."
At that, no one argued.
Deep down, Hermione was scared. She feared that perhaps she was not as cunning as her friends, and she didn't exactly desire to be in Slytherin as much as they did. The idea of being sorted into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor was not unappealing to her, and this scared her.
However, she also realized that she didn't want to be alone. She'd rather be sorted into a house she didn't particularly yearn for just to be with her friends. The people around her were the people who have been with her from the beginning, and she wasn't going to let an old talking hat decide otherwise.
Seated next to Hermione was Millie. She brought a potion out of her pocket, handed it to Hermione, and asked her what it did.
"You bought it; you should know," Hermione said, turning the geometric glass bottle over in her palm. Inside was a clear pink liquid. There was no label, so she was also at a loss.
"I bought it because it looked pretty," Millie said, rolling her eyes. The other kids chatted about different things. Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise wondered about the remote location of Hogwarts, and Pansy and Blaise took turns trying Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
Hermione popped the cap open. "If someone wanted to kill you, Millie, all they'd have to do is put poison in a pretty bottle." She sniffed its contents and cringed at the overpowering scent of flowers.
"Well, it's a good thing nobody wants to kill me."
Hermione seriously doubted that.
"It's perfume." She said after double-checking for charms.
"Hm?"
She returned the bottle to her. "It's only perfume, Mills. Go on, smell it."
Millie brought her nose to the cap and scrunched it after. "Is that all? No beautifying effects? No enchantments or charms?"
"I'm afraid it's not even a potion."
Millie huffed and stuffed the bottle back into her pocket.
Just then, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle entered the compartment. Hermione scooted over as Draco stood in front of her, gesturing for her to move. He sat next to her, angrily muttering something under his breath.
"How'd it go?" She asked him.
Her friends stopped what they were doing at once and listened to Draco's reply.
"Potter," he spat. "We don't need him, anyway."
"Why, what's happened?"
Draco glared at Theo's shoes in front of him and crossed his arms. After a while, they realized he wasn't going to speak, so Hermione asked Crabbe and Goyle instead.
"Potter turned him down," said Crabbe.
"Rejected him, really," said Goyle
"Shut up!" Draco bellowed in embarrassment. "No more of all this talk about Potter. If he wants to hang around with beggarly Weasleys, then let him! Besides, we're much better off without that wanker. He'll be sorry for this. I'll make sure of it."
At once, everyone decided it was time to change topics. They talked and gossiped about their future professors and how they treat their students. Hermione would have paid attention, but she was distracted by Draco's heavy breathing next to her. She could tell that he was still ashamed of being turned down.
Draco never did get used to rejection.
His hand was in between them on the seat, and Hermione brushed it once with her own smaller hand to reassure him. He eyed her without turning his head, and she smiled.
Daphne caught this movement and raised a brow, gears turning in her head.
"LESTRANGE!"
The Great Hall went silent. All heads swiveled towards Hermione's direction, and she lifted her chin proudly, bounding up the steps to place the Sorting Hat over her head. She knew she was some sort of celebrity—albeit an infamous one—so she was used to this kind of attention. People didn't like her. Hermione knew exactly why. Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Bellatrix Lestrange were responsible for countless murders and disappearances. It came as no surprise to her as older students started their low whispers and lingering glances. Some professors had started murmuring amongst themselves as well.
The Sorting Hat slid over her eyes.
"Ah, yes, brilliant," said a small voice in her ear. "Brilliant indeed, no doubt. You would contribute to Ravenclaw's greatness. And bravery is evident, too. A great mind and a bold soul."
Hermione held her breath.
"Must be either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor for you."
No! Hermione thought. Her heart sank. Millie, Crabbe, Tracey, Goyle, and Daphne had already been sorted, and every single one of them was in Slytherin. Hermione wanted it now more than ever.
"No?" It asked. "Why not? Where do you prefer to be sorted?"
Please put me in Slytherin, please, please…
"Slytherin? Why I—" The Sorting Hat was silent for a couple of seconds. And then, "Miss… Lestrange, I'm afraid you were told to believe in something you're not. I assure you, you'd regret being put into Slytherin a few years down the road."
Hermione ignored the Sorting Hat's sinister comment. I won't. My whole family's been sorted there, and so have my friends, I don't wanna be alone, please. No one else will be my friend, they're the only ones I've got, she pleaded.
"Have you seen their lot? Do you think you belong there?"
Yes! Yes, I do think that!
"Hm… I don't know…"
Please, oh please? I'll prove it. I'll prove that I do belong in Slytherin if you just give me a chance. Please? Hermione asked the Hat. I just don't want to be alone anymore.
"Well… I guess you are determined to achieve some level of self-preservation and fraternity. Oh, but for the record, Gryffindor will have been a better fit for you. So I suppose it's got to be… SLYTHERIN!"
Students in green neckties clapped and cheered. Hermione sagged in relief, mentally thanking the hat and placing it back on the stool. She beamed at her friends over at the Slytherin table and made a beeline towards them. She stopped, however, at a light touch on her palm.
Draco was grinning proudly at her. He tightened his grip on her hand and she squeezed his as well. "Good luck," she said to him as the next student was called.
Apparently, Draco hadn't needed any luck at all, for the Sorting Hat barely touched his head before proclaiming him a Slytherin. After the Sorting ceremony, the ten of them were complete. There was a grand feast, and everything would have been perfect… if not for the Bloody Baron seated next to Draco. But besides that, Hermione felt warmth spreading all over her chest. She knew… she just knew that Hogwarts was going to be her home for a very long time.
A week later, Theo sank into the couch next to Hermione, sighing contentedly. "Ah, now this is definitely the comfiest spot in the whole school." He said.
"Nott, if you don't bathe soon, I'm literally going to kick you out of our dormitory." Said Blaise, leaning away from Theo to stretch his legs.
"Wonderful. Ladies, care to take me in?"
"Absolutely not." Said Hermione with a chuckle.
They got assigned roommates after the Feast, and Hermione was pleased to be roomed with Daphne, Millie, and two other girls. One of them was named Anya Mozorov. Anya was nice enough, though she was the quietest of the five. There was also a language barrier between herself and the four girls because she had come from Russia, so there was even less of a reason to converse. Their other roommate was Scarlett Scadfell, a Scottish half-blood with chocolate skin and onyx hair that she always kept up and out of her face. Upon first glance, Hermione instantly got the impression that she was affluent, with her expensive jewelry, bejeweled hair clips, and high-quality ponytail elastics. She fit in quite well with the other Purebloods. Hermione easily became friends with the new girls. Pansy and Tracey were roommates on the other side of the hall. They weren't very keen on separating from their friends, but even deadly glares aimed at Prefects didn't do much for their case. Draco, Blaise, and Theo shared a dormitory, while Crabbe and Goyle were in different rooms.
Hermione, Daphne, Blaise, and Theo were currently lounging in the common room in front of the fireplace. The longest sofa was claimed as their own. Hermione heard the upper years complaining about why the first-years were dominating the best spot, but upon one look at who exactly those first years were, they asked no further questions.
There was a large tome in front of Hermione's nose. Her friends rolled their eyes upon seeing her revising this early in the year, but they were unsurprised. She had escaped her dormitory an hour ago because everybody was trying to teach Anya basic English. So Hermione had gone to the common room. Daphne followed, and soon, Blaise and Theo had come too.
Hermione tuned the others out as she tried to focus on the words in front of her. However, the minute some information started actually soaking up in her brain, the clocked tolled twice, signifying the start of the next class in ten minutes. She sighed and collected her things.
Standing from the couch, Hermione said, "C'mon, boys, get up or we'll be late. Daph, let's go."
"What class do we have next? Potions?" Theo asked. "Mhm… I'm feeling a little lazy, to be honest, so we'll follow right after. Blaise and I'll be there in a sec."
Hermione held out a hand to Daphne, and she used it to stand upright. The girls gave the boys twin incredulous looks.
Theo groaned. "It's fine, honestly."
"Yeah, it's just Snape, he won't mind." Blaise had a point. Snape did have a particular liking for Slytherin students. It was probably because he was their Head of House.
With a roll of their eyes, the girls went ahead. Pansy, Millie, and Tracey caught up to them before exiting the common room.
The corridor was completely jam-packed. Students were scurrying around for their next classes, and they didn't even make way for the Slytherin Purebloods like they usually did. The stink of sweaty children and feet was overpowering. This irked Hermione immensely.
Millie bumped into a skinny-looking girl in a Hufflepuff tie. The girl stumbled backward as she tripped over a crack on the floor. Her books flew out of her bag, scattering around her in heaps of parchment and bindings. "Watch where you're going!" Millie screamed at her.
The Hufflepuff girl didn't know who they were, evidently, because she answered back with a raised voice. "You bumped into me!"
"I beg your pardon?" Millie said menacingly as she inched closer, towering over her. Pansy, Daphne, and Tracey did the same. Hermione realized that she should also be intimidating the girl the way her friends were... so she straightened her back, lifted her chin, and looked down her nose on her.
"Who are you?" Asked Millie.
She stood and glared bravely, not bothering to gather the fallen contents of her bag. "Jen Wallace. Who are you?" She asked back.
Wallace was ignored. "She's a Mudblood, Mills." Seethed Pansy.
By then, most of the students in the corridors walked more slowly around the girls to see what the commotion was about. Some students stopped fully and pointed at them.
"That explains the smell," said Daphne.
"Listen, Mudblood." Millie backed her into the wall, and the other girls trapped her in, cornering her. "You don't belong here. You never will. You ought to know that. Or else..." Tears were pooling in the corner of Jen's eyes, and her nose was reddening. Suddenly, she wasn't so brave anymore.
Millie's eyes turned into slits. "If you cross us again—hell if you so much as look in our direction, I'm going to make sure you get expelled." She paused and stepped forward. Her face was hardly two inches from Wallace's. "And if you don't, I'm going to make your life a living hell."
Before Wallace could reply, someone said loudly, "What's going on here?" An older Hufflepuff girl shoved Hermione aside to get a better view of Wallace. She stumbled and almost fell, if not for Tracey's hand on her arm. Wallace, who was cowering in fear, relaxed significantly. There were two other Hufflepuffs with the intruder, a girl, and a boy. Immediately, the crowd that started to gather around them thinned, with most of the students suddenly hurrying to go to class.
"Coming to rescue a Mudblood, Fawley?" Pansy asked. The Slytherins, however, didn't back down, despite the fact that the Hufflepuffs were clearly much older and stronger.
"Depends, Parkinson. Are you terrorizing Miss Wallace here that she might need rescuing?" She cocked her head to the side.
Fawley fixed her robes and light bounced off her yellow badge with a 'P' on it. The girls' eyes caught onto the badge. She was a Prefect, and she made sure they all knew. "Spoken like a true blood-traitor." Pansy spat. Hermione could tell that the two already knew each other.
"I'm sorry," said Fawley, "but are you asking for me to tell Dumbledore about this little… incident ?" She tapped her Prefect badge.
The Slytherins stared her down. Nobody moved for five seconds until Fawley smiled. "I thought so. Come on, Jen, or you'll be late to class." She extended a hand to Wallace and guided her out of the enclosure of Slytherin girls. She instructed the younger Hufflepuff, "Go tell Cedric and Maia where your next class is, they'll escort you. I'll have a quick word with the Slytherins for a moment."
The three Hufflepuffs left. By then, the only people in the previously crowded hallway were Fawley, Pansy, Millie, Daphne, Tracey, and Hermione. The first-year girls glared at the Prefect, while she merely smirked at them.
"Let this be the first and last time I catch you all terrorizing a student. I know who you are: Parkinson, Bulstrode, Lestrange, Greengrass, and Davis. I've studied your family histories since I found out you were coming to Hogwarts. You all have instilled fear in so many students, but not me. If this happens again, I will not hesitate to have your lot expelled by next year. I'm keeping an eye on you."
Hermione's nostrils flared. That was impossible. She couldn't possibly have the power to expel five of the purest and most highly-esteemed girls in Hogwarts. Her lids narrowed into slits. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tracey's hand twitch towards the pocket of her robes, where her wand was tucked in.
"Now run along, snakes. And don't you dare do it again."
Fawley walked forward and passed in between Millie and Daphne, both of whom she bumped shoulders with. Hermione's fists balled in anger.
The Slytherins were already at the end of the hall when Fawley turned around and hollered at them again, "And twenty points will be docked from Slytherin. Each."