All anyone spoke about for the next week and a half was the owlpals. While Hermione supported the idea and was a bit excited over the thought of talking to someone for several weeks without knowing their identity, she thought to study for the OWLs to be much more pressing. Evidently, her classmates did not think the same.
"What will they do if there's an odd number of students who sign up?" Seamus wondered, hovering over a paper from the packet. "I hope I get someone who likes to create spells— that's my favourite pastime!"
"Bombs more like," Ron corrected.
"They're still spells," Seamus defended his work. "I can't help it that most of them go wrong!"
"They may assign two owlpals for a special student who can handle the workload," Hermione answered Seamus's 'question', pointedly dotting the last period of her Potions essay. She let out a satisfied sigh. One more subject to go before she was finished for the night.
"And that student would be you?" Harry teased with a cocky grin.
"If they think I would be capable of it, yes. But I'm already busy with my Prefect duties and my studying for the OWLs. I certainly wouldn't turn another one down though!"
"Merlin!" Ron gaped at Hermione's finished Potions paper. "You're already done with Snape's essay?!" he squeaked.
"It was easy, Ron! I studied knotgrass in the Second Year for the Polyjuice potion! This is just a refresher course for me! And it isn't hard to name four places where you can find knotgrass on Hogwarts grounds!"
"I can only name one…" Ron said as if no other such place existed.
"Did you get the lake?" Harry asked, leaning over Ron's paper to read it.
"There's some in the lake?"
Harry nodded. "And I've also seen some growing in pots somewhere…" Harry nibbled on a liquorice whip, thinking. "Can't remember where…"
"The main path of the school; right in front of the entry gates, it's used as a warning for wandering creatures looking for new homes; to prevent an overpopulation of growth. There's no reason for them to be frightened of it since the knotgrass isn't unkempt, but for whatever reason, the stray animals don't venture in."
Ron stared at her. "It's like your brain never shuts off! How do you remember all this?!"
"You could too if you wanted to! Look how you memorized that Quidditch book!"
"And I bet you couldn't even name one fact in it either," Ron said smugly.
"You're probably right, but it's not so important to me— just as school doesn't seem to be for you."
"It is so! I just like the practical stuff!"
"Before you can even do the practical stuff, you must first study it and understand everything about it— that's how I do so well with the practical side of things, I know how it all works beforehand!"
"Hermione, did anyone ever tell you that you and Binns could have a battle of who would make the world's most boring professor?"
Hermione pursed her lips, keeping to herself on what she thought the type of professor Ron would make if he were one.
Thankfully, he'd never make it as one.
"So, how do I do this? Where's the last spot that can be found for the knotgrass?"
"Oh, I don't know, Ron. I'd hate to bore you with the specifics!"
"Oh, Hermione!" Ron whined. "Come on! Help me!"
Hermione huffed, unsure why in Merlin's beard she was even bothering to slide Ron's paper toward her to read it over. "One day, I'm not going to be here to hold your hand anymore!"
Ron looked terrified at the thought, then he laughed. "Don't be silly, Hermione, of course, you are! You like to socialize, and we're your only friends!"
She slammed her quill down, spilling the inkpot in the process. Ron practically screamed at the sight of the black puddle soaking into half his page, completely ruining his sad excuse of an essay.
Hermione should have felt terrible, but she was too angry with his insult that she bagged up her books and papers and left without another word. She was sure if she spoke anything, she would have ended up saying something she'd immensely regret later.
Tears stung her eyes; what Ron said was true. The only friends she did have were he and Harry. She was too much of a Know-It-All to attract anyone else.
She wiped her eyes dry and put her things away, getting ready to do Prefect patrol with Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff. Because of the house unity encouragement that the Heads were doing this year, Prefects were paired up with someone outside of their houses.
Hermione wasn't looking to forward to it; all Hannah talked about was Ernie MacMillian, her fellow Prefect in Hufflepuff who she had an enormous crush on. Though the crush did distract her from her worries of getting bad grades— Hannah wasn't dumb, but she easily became stressed.
Down on the fifth floor, Hermione stood, waiting for Hannah. She was always late, which annoyed Hermione; she had a watch, she needed to utilize it more often.
Finally, after nearly twenty minutes, she heard footsteps approaching. "Oh, there you are!" Hermione huffed. "I was about to start on my own—" She stopped when the person came to view. It wasn't Hannah. This person was too tall to be Hannah, and the hair was much too blond.
"Hello to you too, Granger," Malfoy sneered in disgust, as if he'd just come across a pile of dung rather than she. "If I had known it was you I'd be paired with, I'd have rejected the request to fill in for Abbott."
"What happened to Hannah?"
"I was approached by Professor Snape who asked if I would be so kind and fill in for Abbott— he did not tell me why, but then again, I did not ask him. As if I care at all."
"No, because you don't care about anyone besides yourself." Hermione turned on her heel, gritting her teeth.
Great, an hour with the ferret. How lovely.
Malfoy wouldn't shut up about the owlpals either, going on and on, bragging about how pure and smart his owlpal was going to be.
"And we've got the most sign-ups too— well, I doubt many of you Gryffindors would even bother with it, and the Hufflepuffs—" he said this word as if they didn't even exist and were some silly, made up being. "—any of them would probably forget they were part of something. Their inability to focus on anything—"
"Quiet!" Hermione suddenly demanded in a whisper, hearing something off to the right. She had been making an effort to tune out his rambling of how incredibly perfect he was and focusing more on their job as patrols.
"You don't get to tell me what to do! How dare you—"
"I heard something!"
"Well, I didn't! You must be hearing things. Maybe you should go see the mediwitch, she can help you with your problem."
Hermione ignored him and ran on the tips of her toes with her wand out. She heard Malfoy snickering behind her.
"Do you think it's a monster, Granger? Surely you're not frightened?"
No, she knew it was a student, but she wanted her wand out just in case. She had been attacked with a spell once when she was patrolling the halls with Ron. She knew it had been a Slytherin, used as a way to distract them so they could getaway.
"It's a bit hypocritical of you, Granger," Malfoy said under his breath. He had stopped right next to her while she listened for noise. "What, with how much you, Potter and Weasley snuck out of your dorms past curfew."
"As if you're any different? You assign first years detention if they don't literally bow down to you!"
Malfoy laughed. "That was priceless! I haven't done that in a few days… I should try that again!"
"You are an awful Prefect!" she spat.
"Yes, and your boyfriend, Weasel-bee is such an angel."
"He's not my boyfriend!"
"Oh, so he finally came to his senses about you? I should shake his hand—"
Hermione growled. "If you don't shut your wide, hate-spewing mouth, I'll shove my fist into it and gag you with it!"
Malfoy's eyes widened a little, likely thinking of the time she had popped him in the face for his hatefulness. When he did not comment, she turned from him and proceeded down the corridor.
"So, it's Potter then, is it? Do you like him? Does he make your insides flutter? Do you get jealous when he and that Ravenclaw seeker exchange googly grins?"
"He's just a friend!" Hermione practically shouted, becoming overly infuriated with him.
"Oh." Malfoy grinned, his eyes glinting with dark humour. "I see… even your precious little blood-traitors don't want to spoil themselves with you. I can't say I blame them—"
Hermione aimed her fist square for his nose, connecting it perfectly. Malfoy cried out in pain and held his damaged nose, blood dripping from his hand.
Hermione gave him a scathing look. "You were clearly warned," was all she said and left him to deal with his problem on his own. After five years of knowing Draco Malfoy, she was not going to feel bad for what she'd just done. He deserved every pulse of pain from that broken nose.
*/*
He didn't tell anyone who'd broken his nose. Draco simply told Pomfrey that there was an enchanted ball bouncing around the corridors (he blamed this on Peeves), and he hadn't gotten out of the way fast enough.
Really, if anyone knew that a girl had injured him, he'd never hear the end of it.
In the past two weeks, before his incident with Granger, Draco had successfully bribed over two dozen of his housemates into signing up. After word got around, many who already signed up themselves made comments saying that they wished they'd waited so they could have made a little money off Draco.
"If we manage to get the most people who make it to the end, I'll host a party myself," Draco promised them with a grin. Some of the younger Slytherins would sign up just for that. A Draco-hosted party was one nobody wanted to miss: free butterbeer, snacks, and 'door prizes'? Who could refuse that? Even Professor Snape would make an appearance to snag a few free sweets (of course, he just used the excuse that he came in to make sure nothing was getting out of hand, but Draco knew there was an ulterior motive for his showing up).
"I have a feeling we already have the most participants of all the houses," Blaise told Draco at breakfast one morning. "I've been asking around; some people are signing up just because they've made it into a competition."
"It's been a rippling effect, all thanks to you, Malfoy," Theo said from his place next to Blaise.
"It would be wicked if we achieved the most owlpal sign-ups, and then McGonagall gave us extra points for our effort!" one of the younger, more naive Slytherins added.
Draco snorted. "She'd never do that! Only Gryffindors get extra, special points!" He took that moment to toss a scowl at the Gryffindor table. His lip curled when he spotted Potter and his pathetic friends; Granger sat with her nose in a book, thinking it actually would help her exceed her blood's limits. Potter was oblivious to everyone around him as he shifted through the Daily Prophet, and the Weasel was stuffing his chipmunk face, putting Gregory and Vincent to shame.
Draco pushed his plate away. He wasn't at all hungry anymore after seeing any of that. By now, he should know better than to look over there while he was eating.
"Say, Vincent…" he said in thought, smirking at how incredibly evil he could be. "Wouldn't it be lovely if you or Gregory got Ronald Weasley as your owlpal?"
"Merlin, Draco!" Vincent gasped in complete disgust. "Why must you torture me so?!"
Gregory shuddered. "Yeah! You're a bloody tosser!"
"Oh, relax, as if he's—" Draco tossed his head toward the red-headed weasel-bee. "—actually going to do anything that may increase his intellectual points from two to five."
"The only one from Potter's fan club that'll sign up would be Granger," Daphne pointed out reasonably.
Draco refrained from putting a hand to his nose, remembering the injury she'd given him two days before. He nodded, agreeing with Daphne. "And unless your favourite pastime is being an insufferable Know-It-All, I doubt anyone is going to end up with her."
Pansy laughed, overly amused by this. "Imagine what her face is going to look like when they tell her that she has no match!"
Draco chuckled, delighted with that image. "She'll probably run off and sob like a little first year!" Everyone joined in the laughter at this.
"All joking aside," Theo started, once the laughter had died down, "she'll probably get a Puff."
Draco scrunched up his face. "As long as she does and not me."
"You'd rather have a Gryffindor?" Vincent asked with heavy curiosity.
"No, of course not, Vincent— gosh, are your parents that closely related— I'm expecting a Ravenclaw."
Several of the surrounding Slytherins bobbed their heads in agreement, also wanting a Ravenclaw.
"I would rather get a Hufflepuff over a Mudblood," Gregory muttered, forking a link of sausage before shoving the entire thing into his mouth.
"With as much as you and the members of the Hufflepuff house like to eat, I'd wager that's who you'll get!"
Gregory sent Draco an unamused look, but he didn't make a comeback. He likely thought Draco was right. He was too dumb for a Ravenclaw— as if he would mention a book at all on his favourites list— and Draco couldn't picture him getting a Gryffindor— at least not one that would bother signing up to be an owlpal.
Draco actually pitied Gregory (and Vincent too), but a Hufflepuff would be better than a Mudblood; he'd agree to that.
Thinking about his own owlpal, Draco scanned the Ravenclaw table in the wonder of which one would be assigned to him. Some were rather strange, like Looney Lovegood, but others were normal enough. Plenty were Purebloods too, so that was a relief. If he was going to be forced to mingle outside of the Slytherin house, Ravenclaw would be his choice.
David Greyberry would make a decent person to converse with, Draco mused, looking at a young man who always made sure his uniform was in perfect order. Greyberry could have fit well into Slytherin. Blaise once said he heard that the sorting hat considered placing him in Slytherin, but Greyberry had chosen Ravenclaw instead. He got high grades (though, Draco's was obviously better) and didn't act insane in any way. Most of the Ravenclaw ladies swooned to him too, so Draco saw some similarities between Greyberry and himself.
What if Draco got Cho Chang? She was popular, flew her broom in her spare time and loved Quidditch. Draco smirked. Potter would just simply adore if Draco got Chang as an owlpal. But really, Draco wouldn't want her for any other reason than to torture Potter. They spent enough time in the Pitch together and neither liked the other. Potter may have something to do with that, but since they were Seekers on opposing teams, maybe that was the main reason.
It would honestly be for the best for Draco to get an owlpal who didn't play Quidditch at Hogwarts.
Felicio Eastchurch (a Seventh year with brownish hair) played Exploding Snap, even competing in tournaments. Theo talked about him occasionally (he, too, was in the Exploding Snap Club). He was supposed to be very quick with his hands.
And then there was Marcus Belbey, who appeared to inherit a family talent in Potions just as Draco had, but besides that, Draco didn't know anything more about him. But then, that was the point of this assignment: getting to know someone outside your sorted house.
The constant wonder was going to kill him. How could the professors expect anyone not to try and figure out who their owlpal was?! He wondered how strong concealing spells on those books were going to be because Draco knew of a select few people who would sign up just to make a game out of breaking the Charms that were set. He grinned as the Weasley twins came to his mind. They would likely cause a 200 point deduction for Gryffindor. That pair was too curious for their own good. Draco didn't doubt that they would try breaking the wards on the books.
That was fine by Draco.
*/*
"What do you want?" Hermione growled when Malfoy sat down at their table in Potions. Anytime he chose to be near them, it wasn't for good intentions.
"Can't get enough of Hermione's fist, can you?" Harry asked him, making Ron snicker.
Malfoy sent her a scowl. "You must have a hard time keeping your mouth closed, Granger," he muttered, otherwise ignoring Harry and Ron.
"Anyway, I was thinking, since we're on the edge of adulthood, and a few of us here actually have titles, that perhaps, with this whole unity thing, that we could… set a decent example for our peers…?" He blankly looked at Hermione, waiting for a response.
"We don't trust you, Malfoy," Harry said. "Go away!"
"Professor!" Draco called out to Snape, eyeing Harry as he did it. "Potter doesn't appreciate the hard work you and the other professors are doing to unite our houses; could that possibly be why he wasn't made a Prefect?"
Harry's green eyes darkened at Malfoy's childish stunt.
"That's exactly why, Mr. Malfoy," Snape's patronizing drawl came from the front of the room. "It seems Potter could learn a little lesson on unity this evening at 7:30."
Malfoy smirked at Harry's glaring eyes.
"You're such an arse, Malfoy!" Hermione muttered.
"Oh, Proff— Ow!" Malfoy wailed at Hermione's kick to his shin.
"Mr. Malfoy?"
"Oh, I was just wondering if it would be alright for the four of us to share this bottle of lacewing flies here?"
Professor Snape nodded. "That is what it's there for."
"Why are you here?" Ron asked when they were told to carry on with the lesson. He wasn't even paying attention to Harry who was gently shaking out the lacewing flies into a bowl; the lesson for that day was to study their activity, record it while also having to collect two spoonfuls of them. It was hard since they were very lively and tiny.
"Just don't worry about the ferret," Hermione advised him, quickly scribbling down her thoughts about the lesson. With her wand, she cast a spell that immobilized the escaped, scattered pests and flicked it to corral them back into the bowl.
She and Malfoy instantly began taking their measurements, Malfoy shoved her hands out of the bowl. Hermione huffed but waited with crossed arms until he was finished with his two spoonfuls.
"I see that you've finally learned your place," he whispered to her, his smirk widening into a wicked grin.
Harry and Ron uprooted from their chairs, shouting out words. Professor Snape coldly scolded them, removed house points, and gave them each another detention.
Malfoy tutted. "You Gryffindors have severe issues with controlling yourselves."
The lesson finished after that, Hermione didn't even stay behind to help clean the mess up. She snatched her bag up, pinching the corners of her damp eyes and darted out of the room. She found an unused closet to pull herself together in, immersing herself a while later with her head held up high and went off to Ancient Ruins class.
Malfoy sat with them at the next Potions lesson too, but when the Trio refused to say anything to him, after what happened the last time, he worked in absolute silence.
Professor Snape awarded the ferret fifteen points for 'making an effort to mingle in with his peers'. But Harry, Ron, and Hermione all knew he was up to something, though they didn't know what it was.
They were allowed to forget about it though, that night when the owls made their evening delivery. Over half the student body got packages, and there was an excited hum of voices as they opened their packages given to them from signing up for the owlpal program.
There wasn't much inside: extra quills and pots of ink, the special book with the paper they were to write on, and a note.
There were lots of sounds of paper ripping, and half the noise died down as everyone read their note. Hermione read hers quickly in excitement, and reread it several times before she was able to settle down and focus on what the words meant.
To assist with the possibility of an endless friendship and having something in common, we have matched you with your owlpal based on your listed favourites. Your owlpal and you have five matches:
1. Your favourite belonging: Hogwarts, A History: First Edition
2. Your favourite colour: blue
3. Your favourite holiday: summer
4. Your favourite animal: cat
5. Nighttime or daytime: day
We hope you have a wonderful experience with your owlpal!
Hermione immediately started writing her first letter to her mystery owlpal. She wasn't the only one. The noise had mellowed down as those who had received an owlpal began to write their first letter.
Dear Owlpal,
I hope you're as excited as I am about this program! The last couple of weeks have been just as bad as it is on Christmas morning when you're waiting for the sun to come up so you can wake up your family and share wonderful, unforgettable memories with them! Thankfully, it didn't get in the way of my studies! I suppose the next eight weeks are going to be just the same though, as we wait to put a face to the person writing these letters.
Can you believe we matched so many favourites? I hadn't expected to get someone who liked 'Hogwarts, A History' just as much as I do! What's your favourite chapter? I like chapter seven a lot, that's the one with all the house-elf information, but I'm sure you already know that.
What were your other favourites? For pastime, I put down reading; my favourite class is Arithmancy; I had Beef Wellington for my favourite food and tea for my favourite drink.
Hope to hear from you soon,
— Your Owlpal.
AN: I only have one more chapter to write and this story should be complete with seven chapters! :)
Review Responses:
sd2020: Thank you :)
Sparkle15: Hmm, never really read any of those, but then again, I usually write more than I read.
alicjaf94: Yep, this story is just about complete. It should have seven chapters.