Knowing about Harry's uncanny luck in Slughorn's class with the Half-Blood Prince's book, Hermione was not thrilled, per se, to go to Potions that day.
Before Double Potions with the Slytherin, however, Hermione had Ancient Runes, Defence Against the Dark Arts, a break, Arithmancy and lunch.
Before leaving for breakfast, Hermione met with Harry and Ron to conspire about Malfoy.
Ron, however, was a bit confused about how Harry knew that Draco wasn't just bluffing, "But he was obviously showing off for Parkinson, wasn't he?"
Hermione shook her head, now remembering having this exact conversation a few months ago after Harry spied on Malfoy. Unfortunately, this time around, Hermione still was unable to prevent Harry from getting stomped on by Malfoy.
Deciding to take a different route with this conversation than she originally had a few months ago, she deferred the conversation, "Malfoy is just making himself more important than he is. Sure, it's a big lie to tell, but Malfoy is notorious for that."
"I don't know, Hermione," Harry contemplated but said nothing more as many people began to listen to their conversation and stare.
"It's rude to point," Ron snapped at a particularly minuscule first-year boy as they joined the queue to climb out of the portrait hole.
After busting a fourth year for possessing a Fanged Frisbee, Hermione was enveloped in her secluded thoughts.
Why was she covering for Malfoy? She knew he was a Death Eater. Even if she couldn't directly tell Harry and Ron, on Dumbledore's orders, she could hint at it. Harry was already sure of Malfoy's position as a Death Eater, so why not add fuel to the flames?
Hermione was pulled from her thoughts as Ron childishly tugged at her Fanged Frisbee that she had tucked under her arm.
"Ron! They're banned and you're a prefect. Aren't you supposed to set a good role for the younger students?" she lectured.
"Aw," Ron shook his head, "C'mon, just let me keep it this time! I've wanted one of these!"
"Absolutely not," she scolded, pulling the toy back into her grasp. Hermione could've sworn she heard Ron mumble something about being a 'swotty know-it-all', but she couldn't be sure. Brushing it off, she entered the Great Hall with Ron and Harry on both sides of her.
Breakfast was an ordinary affair. As Ron ate his Full English, Hermione munched on some toast. Glancing at the Slytherin Table, Hermione saw Malfoy mirroring her actions, a cup of Black Tea in hand.
Shuddering, Hermione realised just how much she knew about Malfoy. His birthday was in June. He lived in Wiltshire. He was always impeccably early to class. Well, until this year, Hermione thought to herself, remembering how often he either skipped class or showed up halfway through the lecture as the school year progressed. Hopefully, she could change that.
Hermione realised that she was staring at Malfoy, and rather obviously at that, so she blushed and averted her stare to her breakfast, but not before receiving a quizzical look from Malfoy.
Raising an eyebrow, he rolled his eyes and moved so that he was no longer directly facing Hermione.
"All right, Hermione?" Harry asked.
Hermione exhaled shakily, "What?"
"Well," Harry smirked a bit, "your face is rather red, you know."
Willing her face to cool down, she tried to change the subject, "Do you think anyone is taking Care of Magical Creatures this year?"
Now that they were getting into N.E.W.T. classes, Hermione had a feeling that not many students willingly were going to take Hagrid's class.
"I don't think so," Ron said, looking a bit shameful. "I mean, we were the only ones that ever put any effort into the class."
"Exactly," Harry sighed, "Hagrid probably thinks that we loved his class."
Neither Ron nor Hermione said anything in response, however, and after a few minutes, McGonagall had begun handing out their class schedules.
Luckily for Hermione, she had (rather unsurprisingly) passed all of her O.W.L.S and now was ready to advance into N.E.W.T.s level classes. Being one of the first to leave the Great Hall, she excitedly made her way toward Ancient Runes while most of the other students were still receiving their schedules for the year.
Turning a corner, Hermione smiled to herself upon seeing the Ancient Runes classroom. It had quickly become one of her favourite subjects; there were so many intriguing details to Runes.
Her smile, however, quickly twisted into a frown. Early, as always, Draco Malfoy was standing outside the door, the first and only student in the queue. She paused, trying to remember that she was on a mission for the Order.
"Granger," Malfoy spat, "Not surprised that you are early, you aggravating swot."
Hermione decided to ignore his petty taunts, thinking that it would not only help her on her assignment but also piss Malfoy off even more.
"Hm, not talking, Mudblood?" Hermione involuntarily turned to him with a sneer, getting angered over the trivial word.
Malfoy smirked and said nothing more as other students began to join the queue, filing in behind Hermione.
"Alright, now," Professor Babbling, a short woman with frizzy hair that framed her face sporadically, called the class to attention, cutting off the side conversations effectively. "If you would all enter the classroom."
With the students lined up against the chalkboard, Professor Babbling began to explain the curriculum of N.E.W.T level Ancient Runes, "Now, N.E.W.T level Runes is one of the most challenging classes that Hogwarts offers. I have faith that you will all prove to me that you deserve your spot in this class and do your homework," she paused to leer at a few particular students, "If you put the work in, Runes will be not only enriching for your mind but will help you in your core classes as well. We will start by dividing into partners who you will be working with for the remainder of the year."
"Boot, Corner. MacDougal, Brocklehurst. Bones, Zabini," the Professor continued down her list, pointing the partners to their table until there were only a handful of students left.
"Hopkins, Davis. And that leaves," she glanced at her clipboard to check, "Malfoy, Granger."
Pointing them to a seat in the back, Professor Babbling double-checked the list to make sure the pairs were correct.
Hermione couldn't believe this. Partners with Malfoy. Strange, this hadn't happened when she originally took the class the first time around. Hermione decided that she would have to read up on Tempus Itinerantur and find out if changes like this often occurred.
"Now, class, settle down," Professor Babbling instructed. "Before the real work begins, you and your partner will be partaking in a timed challenge. I am going to give you a slab of Runes. Whichever team manages to translate it correctly in the least amount of time and then correctly answer the question will win one free pass for homework from all of the teachers to be used on one day of each partner's choice.."
The class grew in excitement. Aside from Hermione, most of the school found homework boring, but even Hermione wouldn't mind taking a day off. As much as Hermione would love to win the homework pass, she realized how unlikely that would be with Malfoy as her partner.
Flicking her wand, the professor sent out the same slab to each table and began a timer.
Turning toward Malfoy, Hermione inhaled deeply before beginning, "Malfoy, as much as we hate each other, I think we could both use the day off. So, I'm asking you to cooperate, solely for the get-out-of-homework free card."
Malfoy studied her slowly, his aristocratic expression sardonically watching her.
"Fine," he drawled after a moment's hesitation. "But just for the day off."
"Deal," Hermione said and quickly grabbed the slab to begin working on it. Thinking quickly, she grabbed her wand and cast Muffliato, remembering Harry talking about it in the common room once or twice.
"What's that spell?" Malfoy asked.
Hermione considered lying but saw it as futile, so she answered, "It keeps outsiders from listening in on your conversation.
"Hm," Malfoy sighed, starting to examine the slab.
Few words were exchanged as they worked, occasionally asking about a certain Rune's correlation to a different rune. Finally, they translated the entire rune, earning them a riddle.
Hermione brightened, an excited expression crossing her face, "Oh, I love riddles."
Malfoy scoffed but did not comment.
"A boy has as many sisters as brothers, but each sister has only half as many sisters as brothers. How many brothers and sisters are there in the family?" Hermione read.
They sat in silence, reading it over to themselves.
Finally, Hermione busted it. "I've got it," she said as she grabbed some parchment and a quill to write out their answer. "Four brothers and three sisters."
Malfoy went over it in his head before nodding in affirmation.
"I'll take this to Professor Babbling, then," Hermione grabbed the sheet, removed the Muffliato and handed the Professor the parchment. Reading it, Professor Babbage smiled at Hermione and handed her two slips of paper.
With a flick of her wand, the Professor vanished the slabs and cleared everyone's desk.
"I believe that this is record speed for this challenge. In all my years, I've never had any team solve the riddle in less than ten minutes. Congratulations, Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy."
Hermione nodded as she walked back to her table, a triumphant grin radiating off of her.
Malfoy put his hand out, an impatient expression crossing his face. Hermione stared at him quizzically.
"Er, the pass?"
Hermione shook her head, "Oh, right, sorry. Here you go."
She placed the sheet of paper in his hand, their fingers brushing accidentally.
Resisting the urge to pull her hand back, Hermione felt her cheeks redden ever so slightly. She quickly realised that she had never been this close to her 'enemy'. His eyes were grey, not blue as she had originally thought. Gross.
"Control yourself, Mudblood," Malfoy sneered, "This is the second time I've caught you staring today."
"Right," Hermione scoffed and turned her attention to the Professor who was starting her lecture.
By the end of the class, Hermione had begun to create a timetable for completing the assigned homework. She had a fifteen-inch essay, two translations and multiple heavy books that she had to read by Wednesday.
"Bloody hell," she swore under her breath, realising that she wouldn't have nearly as much time to study Tempus Itinerantur as she would have preferred.
"Can't handle the first day of school?" Malfoy mocked her with a villainous grin.
"As if, Malfoy. I," Hermione offered him a sugary smile far too sweet to be actual, "am top of the year. So, if anything, it should be you worrying about finishing the homework."
"Piss off, Mudblood," he spat.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.
"No. I deserve to be here just as much as you. I don't know if you can recall our conversation yesterday, but I refuse to be called that vile name anymore. If you aren't interested in a reminder of what happened in third year, I'd shut up," she whispered, trying not to draw the attention of Professor Babbling.
He sat up a little taller, showing Hermione who had the upper hand physically. Under the table, she shot a stinging jinx at his legs, earning her a kick to the shin.
He swore loudly, "Shit!" Everyone turned to look at him.
"Mr Malfoy?" Professor Babbling raised an eyebrow at him, a bit amused, waiting for an explanation.
He glared at Hermione. "I believe Hermione just shot a Stinging Jinx at me, Professor," he said in a falsely innocent voice.
Staring at them with a calculating stare, Professor Babbling barked, "Detention, Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy. Tonight at 8 in my room. As I was saying..."
"Beaver-toothed bitch," he breathed under his breath, glaring at Hermione.
"Rather be called a bitch than a Mudblood," Hermione shot back.
Malfoy sneered, kicking her leg one last time as he returned to his notes, which were now a half a page behind.
Glancing at her parchment, Hermione realised that her notes were half a page behind as well. Fantastic, she thought.
As class finally finished, signalled by the shrill sound of the bell, Hermione began to walk to Defence Against the Dark Arts, which was now taught by Snape. Beginning her climb down the stairs, she walked briskly, not willing to risk getting in trouble with Snape.
Finally, she reached the North Side of the Castle on the ground floor, where the classroom was located. Luckily, Snape hadn't started class yet, so she wasn't about to be wrongly accused of tardiness.
Searching the queue for Harry and Ron, Hermione frowned when she realised that Malfoy was third in line.
How the bloody hell did he move so fast? Hermione wondered to herself. Probably his long legs. Yeah, that would make sense.
With a jolt of disgust, Hermione quickly put a stopper in her thoughts. She didn't want to think about Malfoy more than she needed to, especially not his legs.
Luckily, she spotted Ron and Harry, who were sure to take her mind off Malfoy.
"We've got so much homework for Runes," Hermione said nearly wailed to her friends as they walked up to her. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations, and I've got to read these by Wednesday!"
"Shame," yawned Ron.
"And that's not all," Hermione grumbled, remembering Malfoy and detention. "I have detention with Malfoy tonight. You can probably guess why."
A voice interrupted her complaints and silence immediately fell over the corridor. "Inside," Professor Snape instructed, his sallow face and greasy hair looking as drab as the interior of his classroom was.
Dark curtains hugged the windows and candlelight flickered threateningly. Portraits of people in pain with contorted body parts and twisted limbs adorned the walls. No one spoke as they entered the room, settling into their seats nervously.
As Snape began his speech, which Hermione could remember clearly from the original first day, her thoughts wandered to Snape's role in the Order of the Phoenix. Although she, herself, had her doubts about the legitimacy of his devotion to the Order, Hermione wasn't one to question Dumbledore. Finally, the curriculum began. Nonverbal spells. Luckily for Hermione, some of the class was a repetition of what she originally learnt, so she would appear far more advanced than she had been a few months ago.
"What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?" Snape leered at the class, waiting for anyone other than Hermione to answer. When he saw no other hands go up, he reluctantly called on Hermione. "Miss Granger."
Clearing her throat a bit, she answered quickly, "Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform which gives you a split-second advantage."
Snape narrowed his beady black eyes at Hermione, "An answer copied almost word for word form The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six."
Malfoy, sitting a few rows behind Hermione sniggered, whispering something that sounded suspiciously similar to 'idiotic mudblood'. If Snape heard, he took no offence to it and continued lecturing as though nothing had happened.
Hermione sighed dejectedly as the class began to partner up to perform nonverbal spells. Within a minute, Hermione managed to perfect nonverbals and had quickly repelled Neville's Jelly-Legs Jinx, a feat that should have earned her twenty house points from a reasonable Professor.
...
A few classes and a much-needed lunch later, Hermione was in the Dungeons of the castle. Approaching the Potion's Dungeon warily, Hermione was surprised to see that the door was open, and the few students already inside the room, preparing their cauldrons. Much different than Snape's usual strict policies of waiting for his orders before doing anything.
As a few more students trickled in, Hermione began to prepare her workspace, taking the empty table with four burners in the back. Hermione noticed a seductive, welcoming scent. New parchment, freshly mown grass and something familiar, but Hermione couldn't put her finger on just what it was. Definitely something masculine.
Of course, Hermione already knew what potion she was smelling; the seductive lure of the pearly concoction was a dead giveaway.
Finally, the rest of the class was there.
A squat Professor with a jolly expression waddled into the room, introducing himself as Professor Slughorn. With a wink at Harry, he gave a short spiel about what N.E.W.T level Potions would require, very similar to the small speeches each Professor had given them that day.
The class moved forward, forming an arch around large, bubbling cauldrons, each different in scent and appearance. The vapours all congregating in the air were adding some very unneeded volume to Hermione's already frizzy hair.
Harry and Ron borrowed some scales, potion kits and copies of Advanced Potion-Making from the Professor as they weren't expecting to be put into N.E.W.T. Potions.
"Now then," the new Professor said, clapping his hands together, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kinds of things you should be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this is?"
Hermione was quick to identify Veritauseum, a truth serum, as well as Polyjuice Potion, which she made four years ago. Finally, they reached the final cauldron.
"It's Amortentia."
"Indeed! And what, may I ask, does Amortentia do to the drinker, m'dear?" Slughorn inquired, looking very impressed.
"It's the most powerful love potion in the world. Its scent varies from person to person. For example, I smell freshly mown grass, old parchment, and," she blushed, "er, something else."
"May I ask your name, dear?" Slughorn grinned, ignoring her blush.
"Hermione Granger, sir."
"Ah, Granger!" Slughorn's eyebrows rose in a look of hope, "Are you, by chance, related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"
"No," came her response, "I don't think so, sir. I'm a Muggle-Born, you see."
Draco, who was standing a spot away from Hermione with Nott and Zabini, leaned in close to Nott and whispered something. They sniggered and shot a glare at Hermione who raised her eyebrows challengingly.
"Take twenty points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," Slughorn generously offered.
Standing next to Hermione, Malfoy looked like he just saw a Flobberworm tap dance across the floor.
"Now, to address the last potion," Slughorn gestured to a small vial of a golden liquid. "Felix Felicis, otherwise known as Liquid Luck."
Hermione could see Malfoy snap his head toward Slughorn, a now intrigued expression dancing in his eyes. Now it made sense; Malfoy wanted the Felix Felicis potion to help him with whatever inane task Voldemort had given him.
Of course, Hermione remembered the fight for Felix Felicis. How could she forget? She still was upset about the stupid Half-Blood Prince.
Perhaps that in this universe, however, the Half-Blood Prince did not exist. Or perhaps Harry would have honest morals. Unlikely, however.
"Now, before we begin making a potion, I think you all should know that the best potion today will win this vial of Liquid Luck. With that being said, I invite you to observe each of the potions before we start," Slughorn beckoned them forward and a half-hearted queue was created to quickly study the mixtures.
Remembering her mission, Hermione paid close attention to Malfoy. Perhaps letting him win the Liquid Luck would help him? But what would the ripple effect of that be? What if Liquid Luck was what saved Harry in the original reality?
No, Hermione thought to herself, Hermione, your mission was to save Draco Malfoy. Harry is the chosen one; Liquid Luck won't help him that much. Besides, if it comes to it, we can brew some.
Hermione nodded to herself. So, it was decided, she would switch duplicate the Half-Blood Prince's book so that no major ripple effects came from the switch and so Malfoy would have a better shot.
Slipping into the back of the classroom, she whispered, "Geminio." The Half-Blood Prince's book was effectively duplicated. Grabbing Malfoy's book, she quickly replaced it with the copy.
She shoved Malfoy's book in her bag, deciding that she would return the normal book the next day so that Malfoy didn't get any evil ideas from the Prince's numerous spells and incantations written in the margins.
Eyeing her suspiciously, Malfoy sauntered over to Hermione. "What are you doing with my stuff, Mudblood?"
"Er," Hermione froze before digging in her bag for something to 'give back' to Malfoy, "returning this to you. You left it in Ancient Runes and I thought it would be better to give it back without actually talking to you, so I set it on your cauldron."
Settling on a quill, she pulled it out and shoved it into his hand.
"This isn't mine; I only use Eagle and this is Pheasant," Malfoy scrunched his nose up in distaste. "Take the bloody quill. I don't want your Mudblood germs."
"Fine," Hermione glared, snatching it back from his hand. "But next time, a thank you would be in order, Malfoy."
"I don't thank Mudbloods," he sneered.
About to retort, Hermione stopped herself. She had to remember her Order assignment; it was much more important than some bloody quill. Turning on her heel, Hermione stormed over to Ron and Harry.
"What was that about, Hermione?" Ron asked curiously, craning his head to look at Malfoy. When Malfoy lazily looked up and flipped him off, Ron mouthed something that would make Mrs Weasley faint back at him.
"Ronald!" Hermione hit his shoulder half-heartedly. The little ferret deserved it, but Hermione had a role as a prefect to fill, which meant no mouthing off to incessant pests such as Malfoy. "I was trying to return his quill to him but he just complained about Mudblood germs, so I guess I'm a quill richer."
"Slimy git," Harry complained as he shuffled the table's contents around in search of something. "Say, has anyone seen my book?"
"Have you checked on the ground?" Hermione asked. Once he had bent over, she placed the book on the table inconspicuously. "Found it, Harry!"
"You're a lifesaver, Hermione!"
"I know," she laughed sweetly, smiling at her two friends. At times like this, Hermione nearly forgot about the war and Voldemort's looming threat.
"Now, class," Slughorn called after everyone had returned to their seats. "How does one win this fabulous prize? Why, by turning to page ten of your books! And I must remind you that Liquid Luck is banned from any sort of Organized Competition or Event, such as a Quidditch match. Now, get to it!"
The class rushed to start brewing. It was a rush of students going every which way in a frenzy to win the Liquid Luck. Hermione knew that she didn't stand a chance against Harry and Malfoy, considering that they had the expert advice of a much more experienced potioneer, but she still wanted to impress Slughorn.
As the class got to work, there was little talking. Everyone was very concentrated on their potions. While waiting for two minutes until her potion turned a light shade of lilac, Hermione watched Malfoy carefully to find out if he was having any more luck. Setting an alarm with her wand, she ventured toward the Slytherin table.
Pretending to need something from the storage closet, she quickly inspected his potion. As she had hoped, it was looking much better than hers was. What a bastard, she scoffed to herself.
Returning to her potion, she was glad to see that it was finally turning lilac.
"Perhaps you remember my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, sir?" Malfoy was using his teacher's pet voice, expecting the special treatment that Zabini and Harry were receiving from Slughorn.
Unfortunately for Malfoy, Slughorn didn't seem to care much about Abraxas Malfoy. Looked like the privileged brat would have to work hard for something, for once in his life.
The class worked for the rest of the Double Period until Slughorn stopped them, testing each Draught of Living Death with a small leaf.
Frowning with disappointment at nearly everyone's Slughorn marvelled at Malfoy's potion, saying that it was nearly perfect, and he received an Outstanding. Slughorn gave Hermione an Exceeds Expectations, which she was a bit disappointed in, but not quite surprised about. When the round professor reached Harry's he had a very similar reaction to how he had acted around Malfoy's potion.
Finally, he had reached a conclusion, "Miss Granger, m'dear. If you would come to the front of the class."
Hermione frowned slightly to herself, she definitely didn't win.
"In front of you, I have two Draught of Living Deaths. You seem to be the most knowledgeable about factual evidence, so I am going to have you decide which potion is better."
Hermione studied them both carefully. Glancing up, she caught Harry's eye. He shrugged, a smile adorning his friendly face. Her eyes darting over to Malfoy, Hermione thought he mouthed something to her, although to everyone else he appeared cocky. The telltale of his desperation for the liquid luck was his eyes, which were begging her to pick him.
She knew whose cauldron was whose, the fact that Malfoy's initials were elegantly engraved in the expensive cauldron was a dead giveaway.
"I'm going to have to say that this one is better," she turned to Slughorn with a small smile, pointing at Malfoy's potion. Of course, Hermione really had no way of knowing which was really better. They looked identical.
"Then that settles it," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "Mr Malfoy, congratulations, you just won yourself one dosage of Liquid Luck! Use it well."
Malfoy swaggered up to the front to the front of the classroom to receive his potion. Hermione returned to her spot next to Ron, who was now adamantly refusing to look in her direction.
Frowning to herself, Hermione realised that she was in a bit of a mess.