Author's Note:
Here is another chapter! It's a bit on the short side, but the break felt like a good timing. Like always, I jump in circles over every review and they motivate me A LOT to spent more time writing.
The days inside the castle started to fall into a pleasant rhythm. Harry spent his time in classes, teaching Hermione and Hagrid, and corresponding with Remus and Sirius. Week after week, Harry could basically feel Sirius's mental state improving through his writing. While his first letters had been all over the place, now they were much more coherent and thought out.
Draco had been subdued after his lost duel, not even bothering to fling his usual insults towards Ron. Nearly all of Slytherin had accepted Harry's friendship with Hermione. Harry had the feeling that they were quietly accessing the situation, not sure on how to react to an obviously incredibly magically powerful muggleborn. Harry had slowly garnered a similar reputation, as he was breezing through his classes just like Hermione.
Ron had not taken well to being rebuffed inside the Hogwarts Express, shooting him angry glares whenever he saw Harry. Harry had also heard that Ron was trying to spin a story of him being obviously a dark wizard, but only few were listening to him. Harry's friendship with a muggleborn was a big factor in most of Gryffindor rejecting that notion.
As most of Harry's classes were with the Gryffindors, he couldn't help but notice Neville having huge problems with his classes. He knew the issue was mostly Neville's focus, and thus he was unsure on how to help the boy. Neville also seemed extremely isolated, not talking much with anyone, and almost always sitting alone at meals.
Harry had spoken with Hermione about his observations, and they quickly decided they needed to help Neville in some fashion, even if it was only through the support of a friendship for now. One evening after dinner, when Neville was heading towards the Gryffindor tower, Harry quickly followed him out of the great hall.
"Hey Neville, wait a second!" Harry called out after him, and Neville instantly jumped at the unexpected voice behind him.
"Harry…" Neville quietly acknowledged him, nervously swaying from one foot to the other.
"Hermione and I were going to visit Hagrid this evening. I was wondering if you wanted to join us." Harry asked, smiling at the still frightened looking boy.
"Uh…I…" Neville seemed to ring with his words, and Harry could practically feel the question Neville didn't trust himself to voice out loud - 'Why would you want me to join?'
"You know, Hagrid was telling me a lot about my parents; yours and mine were good friends, and Hagrid surely knows a few stories about yours as well. I thought, maybe, we could get to know each other a bit to...honour their friendship."
Neville shyly looked to the side at the mention of his parents, clearly embarrassed. Harry didn't know if it was because of their current state, or the ever-looming shadow of wanting to be like them that Neville had always fought with. Nevertheless, Neville slowly nodded.
"I..I think I would like that," Neville answered.
"Awesome! We will meet you in an hour at Hagrid's hut then!" Harry exclaimed, before giving Neville another smile and then heading towards the dungeons.
The time with Hagrid went well, with Neville listening intently at Hagrid's stories of his parent. Even though Frank and Alice had been more of the quiet sort, there were some memorable moments that Hagrid could tell him. Neville later told Harry and Hermione on the way back that it had been nice to listen to someone speak about his parent without the underlying tone of expectation for him to be the same. Harry had simply said that while his parents sure had been great people, Neville was his own man and could be great in his own unique way, without needing to be like anyone wanted him to. Neville had looked contemplative for a moment, before thanking Harry and heading off to the Gryffindor tower.
From that moment on, Harry and Hermione met with Neville for regular study sessions, and sometimes for tea with Hagrid. While Neville's grates were still suboptimal, they slowly improved. Harry was sure that Neville would do a lot better with a proper wand, but withheld that piece of information for now, as it would not help Neville without a solution at hand.
-o-o-
Hermione was bored. Classes were just incredibly dull, with here having mastered everything they were being taught months ago. Most of the time, she simply completed the task, then taking out a book to keep herself busy. Right now, she was sitting in Defence Against The Dark Arts, doing just the same. Her peaceful reading was interrupted however, when Professor Quirrell suddenly appeared next to her.
"Mr—s. Gra-aa-anger, would y-o-o-u plea-se sta-ay for a mo-oment after cla-ass?"
It took everything out of Hermione not to jump from her seat. She wrecked her brain for a feasible excuse to deny the request, not liking one bit to be alone in a room with what was practically Lord Voldemort. She came up short, however, so she simply nodded.
"Of course, Professor."
Every second of class after that felt like hours, and she consciously had to fight the urge to just run away and find Harry. When everyone was packing their things and left the room, she had a very hard time to keep her hands from trembling.
"Mrs. Gra-anger, it seems like the cla-asses are bo-oring you," Quirrell said, fidgeting nervously at his robes. Even though Hermione knew it was an act, it was a very good one. If she didn't know just what was lurking behind Quirrell's turban, she might have been put into a false sense of security.
"They do, Professor," she simply answered, wondering where Quirrell was heading with this talk.
"Ma-aybe you wou-uld be inte-e-rested in a bi-it more cha-a-llenging material?"
Did Lord Voldemort just offer her private lessons? The thought was so incredibly surreal, she didn't know how to react. Lord Voldemort, the champion for pureblood propaganda was offering lessons to a muggleborn?
"Thank You, Professor, but I am quite content with how things are progressing. I think classes will become more challenging with time," she answered, hoping that he wouldn't force the issue.
"O-of cou-urse. Ru-un alo-ong then. My-y door i-is alwa-ays open, if yo-ou ne-ed any a-assiste-e-nce."
"Thank you, Professor."
Hermione didn't remember a time she was gladder to be out of classroom, and she was sincerely hoping that Quirrell had not picked onto her distress. As soon as the door had closed behind her, she hurried towards the great hall, where she hoped Harry should be found. She quickly made her way to the Slytherin table, whispering to him that she had something urgent to be discussed. Without raising a fuss, Harry instantly stood up and let her out of the hall towards the room of requirements.
"Please tell me you're joking," he said after she had told her about her lesson today. Harry was running his hand through his hair, a thing he always did when he was nervous or tense.
"Trust me, I would like nothing more than answer yes to that question. Sadly, I am not." Harry winced at her angry tone, and she immediately softened her voice. "Why would he make that offer?"
"I have no idea," Harry answered, "Maybe he is just trying to recruit you, that would be the best scenario."
"Or he decided to kill me before I can become a problem."
Harry's distressed face was indication enough just how much he thought that this could be a possible explanation.
"I would suggest you befriend someone in Ravenclaw, so that you don't need to walk alone through the castle," Harry said after a moment of consideration. At Hermione's pained expression, he rose an eyebrow. "They can't all be that bad, can they?"
"They are jealous," Hermione simply said, "Nearly all of them. Ravenclaw prides itself in their knowledge, but they can't keep up with me. They don't like that."
"Then I will simply accompany you to your classes," he offered.
"Harry, we don't have any classes together. Whoever had the idea of pairing Slytherin and Gryffindor in every class is simply nuts, but that's not something we can change. And you can't be late to every class. I mean how likely is it that Quirrell will just jump me in the hallway?"
Harry sighed. "Splitting his soul has made Voldemort unstable and quite…mad. It's hard to foresee what he might and might not do."
"Can't we expose him to Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, running out of ideas.
"How? Hey Professor Dumbledore, I know you didn't notice but Voldemort might be hanging out at the back of Quirrell's head, completely masking his magical presence. It's just a thought we had."
"You prat!" Hermione playfully gave Harry a smack on the head. "No need to go all sarcastic on me."
"I'm sorry. I tend to do that when I'm panicking." Harry apologized half-heartedly.
"So, we just wait and hope nothing happens?" Hermione asked.
"I will come up with something. I don't think he would act this fast; Voldemort likes his well thought out plans, and doing something to you would jeopardize his attempts on stealing the stone. Just don't get alone in a room with him again. Make a miserable excuse if you must, but just get out of there if he should approach you once more."
Hermione sighted and nodded, being very glad at feeling Harry's arms around her a second later. She let her body relax into him, and shortly after she heard Harry whisper into her ear: "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."
-o-o-
When Harry entered the Slytherin common room, Draco was there waiting for him.
"Got a moment, Potter?" the blonde asked, to which Harry nodded, seating himself next to the blond in one the armchairs. Draco's usual lackeys were nowhere to be seen, which surprised Harry, as Crabby and Goyle seldom left Draco's side.
"Granger…she really is a muggleborn, right?" At Draco's question something clicked inside Harry's mind. Draco had been taught from birth about the superiority of purebloods. The blatant magical talent Hermione displayed must have really gotten under the Malfoy heirs skin, which explained his unusual quietness for the past few weeks.
"Yes, at least we did not find any evidence of another witch or wizard in her family history," Harry answered, looking at Draco and trying to read his expression. However, Draco clearly had been trained in Occlumency, and his thoughts were not at all broadcasted on his face.
Trying to seize the opportunity of doubt inside Draco's mind, Harry quietly continued speaking: "Draco I know roughly what you have been taught, and I am not asking for you to throw all of that out of the window. Hermione, however, is a brilliant example of an incredibly powerful witch, which just happens to be the first inside her family. When Hermione asked you, you clearly stated that you value strength over blood, and I think that is something that might serve you well. Voldemort is another example of an incredibly powerful wizard, as is Dumbledore. There is a reason both of them attracted such a big following. But…Draco, how much has your father taught you about ministry bindings?"
Draco's gaze nervously flickered around them, searching for listeners, but the common room was completely empty. Still, Draco's voice was only a hushed whisper: "Potter! You can't go talking about those! It can get you into big trouble real fast. How in Salazar's name do you know about them at all?!"
"That answer tells me enough. Voldemort has done horrendous magic to escape his bindings, which rendered him far from sane. In a world where those things would not exist, he would have maybe become a powerful politician for traditional values. He was charismatic, intelligent and immensely powerful, but as soon as he left Hogwarts, the ministry forced him into bindings so mighty, he would have been nothing but a pawn for whichever coward was currently running things at the ministry."
"Why are you telling me this?" Draco hissed, his Occlumency faltering for a moment, confusion and fear etched onto his face.
"Can you give me an oath of silence?" Harry asked instead of answering, and Draco inhaled a sharp breath.
"Potter! Do you know what you are asking?" Draco said, alarm in his voice.
"I'm asking for a very specific oath to not relay what I am about to tell you to anyone else without my permission. Nothing else." Harry answered, calm and collected.
"Is this so important? And if it is why would you tell me?"
"Yes, it is. And I ask you because I see potential that might be wasted kissing the ropes of an insane dark lord." Harry offered quietly, seriousness and honesty evident inside his voice.
Draco looked angry for a moment, before visibly calming himself.
"I will think about it and maybe approach you again," he then offered, "until then, this conversation never happened."
Harry nodded. "Of course it didn't."