Chapter 3:
There were moments when he had to stop himself and blink to make sure he hadn't really gone insane. When he had first received his letter, watching as the strange owl flew across the gardens of his house, he had thought he had imagined it. But then his parents approached him with an official looking parchment, wax seal and all, and then everything made sense. The countless moments as a young child when things would float around his head, the time he accidently set the carpet on fire, or even when he could control when lights would turn on or off, and even when he had accidentally broken all of the crayons that belonged to a certain bully in grade school. Everything made so much more sense.
It was the biggest breath of relief he had ever let out. Because no longer was he some freak who had been pulled from school at the age of eight, nor the boy who couldn't play football with the other boys his age, or some person who was destined to rot away in his house and vow to never enter the public population again. He could leave all of it behind and start fresh, going to a new school where there would be other children who could do things like him, who were just like him.
When the older woman came a few days later, Professor McGonagall as she introduced herself as, it took most of his nerves away when she explained that most of the children that would be attending Hogwarts as new coming first years were nothing more than beginners like he would be. It was comforting knowing that he wouldn't be behind, and that Hogwarts would be a place he could consider a "home away from home" as the professor described. She told him he was wanted there and it was all she had to say to completely convince him that Hogwarts was the place for him. Before she had left, she had gifted him with a thick tome, Hogwarts: A History, and he had stayed up throughout the entire night thumbing the book from cover to cover, absorbing and memorizing every word and detail and clue of the world he would be entering.
At first he had thought it was all too much. There were new names and faces he memorized, talk about moving staircases made his head spin, and roaming ghosts and lessons with magical creatures had his eyes widening in excitement. But he kept reading and reading and reading until it was the day his mother was taking him to Diagon Alley to get his supplies, two days shy of term beginning.
Entering Diagon was when it all became real. Every shop he entered had a life of its own, every person he passed on the street was colorful and cheerful and he thought it couldn't get any better. Entering Diagon gave him the glimpse of a life he could live, a place where he knew he belonged. He could feel the change in himself, as if the sensations tingling beneath the thin layers of his skin was the valediction he needed. Magic, he had to remind himself of. It was the feeling of magic stirring to life as it recognized the signatures spiking all around him. He had never felt more alive.
And then he met her.
Hermione.
There was just something about her that struck him deep. It probably didn't help that she quite literally ran right into him, but it was as if there was suddenly no one else alive, just her and him and in a frightening moment afterward, he realized that he hadn't panicked at that idea. Every word she spoke, he wanted more, he wanted to know her and-and-and well, he didn't know what else but whatever it was, he wanted it. It was… concerning, to say the least, how much he thought of her following their introduction but he figured it was his mind's way of trying to stay positive as the term date approached. He figured if he at least had her, then maybe, just possibly his nerves wouldn't consume him whole when he stepped into Hogwarts.
So, of course, it only made logical sense that the very moment he passed through the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾ his gaze immediately began to scan the crowds. But when he did, his shoulders sagged in disbelief at the sight he was bombarded with.
There were people everywhere. So many families with so many children with so many carts full of trunks and cages. The noise alone nearly toppled him over as rowdy children ran about with wide smiles on their faces and flushed cheeks. It all made him feel as tall as an ant, swallowed up by the crowd without consideration.
However, a gentle hand on his shoulder brought him back, rooting him once more in the present. He turned his head to look up at his mother smiling down in encouragement at him. "This world is yours just as much as it is theirs," she spoke, reminding him.
Draco nodded, repeating the words like a mantra within his skull. With his mother's hand still on his shoulder, he pushed his cart forward. One ear listened carefully to each observation his mother made while the other trained on the crowd's roar. It was nearly impossible to actually absorb anything but he tried anyways.
When they approached the train, he was spun around by the shoulders as his mother began to look him over. She reached up to fix his already straightened collar, and gently brushed aside his hair while looking at him with such emotion in those bright blue eyes of hers. He could see she was nervous, if the fidgeting was anything to go by, but honestly, what could she possibly be worried about? It wasn't like she was the one that was minutes away from boarding a train and vanishing into the highlands of Scotland. She was going to have it easy compared to him.
"I understand that you will probably be busy when school actually starts-," she used her hands to brush against his shoulders, absentmindedly cleaning off flints that didn't exist,"- but do remember that you still have parents who love you terribly and will miss you at every moment of the day," his mother said. "I'll send you weekly packages and if you need anything write us immediately. Mind your manners and follow the rules…"
The first thing he noticed was that the noise drastically lessened. The room was still noisy but the drop had been unmissable. It was a strange combination of loud and soft that wasn't quite right so his questioning gaze wandered from his mother's face, over her shoulder and-
His breath caught in his throat.
His lips parted in disbelief when he realized he found her. He had pinched himself on the wrist just to make sure. Once he caught sight, he didn't waver.
She looked similar as he had seen her in the shop. Her soft curls were down and past her shoulders, and she wore a black dress that laid just above her knee with low heels that matched and sleeves that cut at the elbow. He recognized the woman who glided beside her as her mother but… but her nose was held high in the air and the look on her face wasn't at all kind as she had shown him. His brows furrowed as he took in the rest of the small gathering that Hermione stood with. There were five of them total. In front of Hermione there were two taller older boys who had their gazes trained forward, not giving the rest of the crowd consideration as they pushed through. He figured they were her brothers as they looked similar to Hermione; one had dark, wavy brown hair that fell in front of his eyes and the other shared the same tint as Hermione's, only straight. Neither of them looked entirely pleased, especially the one with the darker hair, but they said and did nothing but follow, with Hermione close at their heels. Draco let his gaze focus on the last member and when he did, he swallowed heavily.
Draco had never been a people person, ever, but he could recognize someone to avoid from across a room. And the tall man with pale blonde hair like his that led Hermione and the other members of her family through the platform, was someone no one wanted to approach. He walked with an arrogant stride, using a sleek black walking stick with something shiny on top, but there was no limp in his walk. His face was hard, with a displeased sneer hinting through.
It was obvious that none of them looked particularly approachable. No one from the crowd dared to step in their way or utter a single word to them. He could feel his hopes begin to diminish by the second. Only certain types of people had certain types of reputation and it wasn't through smiles and kindness that the Granger's got theirs. Draco knew that Hermione came from a pureblood background and he knew that there were some purebloods who didn't… appreciate his kind but he had failed, or perhaps refused to think that Hermione had descended from those type of hateful people. But… but if that were the case then Hermione would have certainly never dared let him talk to her in Diagon Alley. She knew what he was, he had told her, confessed it to her from the get go. It wasn't as if he had kept it a secret.
"-And for the love of everything that is good, please be careful."
His attention darted back towards his mother and once again, nodded his head in the silent promise that it was. But honestly- be careful?- he was going to bloody school. The worst that could happen is he could get a papercut from his homework or pass out onto the floor from studying too hard. He was speaking on experience with the later.
"Draco, I am serious. If either of us get one letter saying you have been-"
"Mum, I will be fine. I promise. I promise to write every week- twice a week- and I will stay on my best behavior at all times."
"At all times?" she repeated with eyebrows raised skeptically.
He grinned at her expression. "70 percent."
"70 percent? That's all?"
"Fine," he groaned. "... 75."
Her eyes narrowed, playfully, "Dra-"
A loud train whistled and jolted those that still stood on the platform. Many of the students began to hastily gather their things and huddle tightly with their families and Draco realized that this was it. It was time to board the Hogwarts Express and leave his home behind. It was time to go to his home away from home even if he suddenly couldn't remember why this was a good thing to be doing in the first place.
Part of him felt that he should charge onto that train and talk to every single person until the whole bloody school knew his name but there was another part, a much, much larger part that wanted to run screaming from the direction he had came, Hogwarts and prejudice purebloods be damned.
His mother's hands gripped his shoulders, strong and gentle in that motherly fashion. She was always exceptionally good at reading his thoughts, perhaps too good in some cases.
"Now you listen to me," she spoke sternly, with a soft smile on her face. "Some days will be hard, you have to understand that from the beginning. There will be days when you want to quit and let them win but the good days will outnumber the bad, I promise. You go into that school and show them who you are, who you really are and the potential you have. Show them how great you will be even if you have to force it." Her eyes were shiny now, with unshed tears that he knew wouldn't fall. "Your father and I love you more than the entire world-," she pressed a kiss to the smooth spanse of his cheek before nodding towards the students boarding the train, "- and they will to."
He followed her line of sight and smiled. With a short goodbye, he too made his way onto the train. Not once did he look back to the world he was leaving.
If he thought the platform had been crowded, walking down the narrow halls of the train made him realize just how spacious outside had been. It was quite the feat having to make his way down the aisle to find a compartment. Most of them were packed already with students, all loudly chatting animatedly amongst themselves, and he politely passed those. He'd very much like to arrive at Hogwarts with his ears functioning properly and not half deaf.
The further down the train he went, he could feel the air crackling in excitement. It bounced off the train walls and made its way out of every compartment as if it were air. When he realized he had to be at least half way down the train, he figured he was too late to find a compartment that he could have all to himself. He knew he should go out there and… meet others, but he felt exhausted and, well, he was still looking. Every door he passed, a quick peer inside the window gave him the same result every door he had passed provided: Hermione was nowhere to be found.
With the next five he passed, he promised himself that whatever compartment had room, he was going to join whoever. He nearly rejoiced when it was the very next compartment he checked. There were only two boys; one redhead with too many freckles to count and the other with a mess of jet black hair and round glasses that appeared to be crooked. They looked pleasant enough.
He wasted no time sliding the door open and popping in. "Mind if I join you both?"
The redhead spoke with a mouthful of food, his cheeks bulged out, " 'Course you can. 's jus' us two." The dark haired boy nodded in agreement.
He gave his thanks and slid the door back into its original position. He chose to sit next to the one with glasses just because the chance of the redhead getting food on his nice clothes was too catastrophic for Draco to deal with. He sat up straight and held his hand out to the two. "My name is Draco Maddox."
The redhead attempted, but failed, to swallow all of food. He shook Draco's hand then said, "Name 's Ron Weasley."
Draco suppressed the shudder of feeling the moisture in Ron's hand and something that was sticky coating his freckled fingers. He was quick to move on to the boy with the crooked glasses.
"Harry Potter. Nice to meet you Draco," he smiled.
Draco's head tilted to the side in curiosity, the name instantly familiar to him. "As in the famous Boy-Who-Lived Harry Potter?" he clarified.
"Yep, the one and only. Wicked right?," Ron blurted.
Uhh. Wicked as in having his parents murdered in cold blood while his infantile self watched? Wicked as in having to grow up parentless? Wicked as in having the ex-army of some deranged madman wanting to kill him at every and any chance they got? Uhh.
As far as Draco was concerned, Harry Potter was just another victim of Lord Voldemort's endless list. But, he wouldn't dare say that, so instead, he just silently nodded. Neither agreeing or disagreeing.
When Harry's shoulders eased, it was obvious he appreciated it.
It was almost too easy how they managed to slip into small talk with one another as the train slid along the tracks. Minutes passed by without Draco noticing, and although many of the other students were exploring about, the three of them stayed inside. Their little safe haven from the chaos.
No one had bothered them until two ginger twins busted through. Their heads traveled together as their gazes drifted from Ron to him and Harry, then back. "So it seems the impossible has been made possible. You've made friends!"
Ron rolled his eyes, groaning to himself. "This is Harry and Draco."
At the same time, both of their brows raised, the same, identical wicked smile plastered mischievously on their faces.
"So you're Harry Potter, ey? I'm Fred," he moved his thumb towards his twin, "and he's George."
The other twin shook his head. "No, I'm Fred, and he's George."
The first twin only grinned, and acted as if the second had never spoken. "Ron over there is our little brother, if you couldn't tell already," he waved towards his hair. "He'll forgive you if you couldn't. We've told him time and time again that the good looks had to run out eventually."
"Oi, shove off, would you?"
Collectively, the twins cackled, "See you later then!", and bolted straight back through the door they had came through.
Draco had thought that the three of them would go back to talking with each other and not have any more interference from the outside, but less than a full minute after Fred and George had left, the door was opened yet again. With a bit more force than the last visitors.
Without looking, Ron began to groan probably thinking members of his family had returned to pester him, but when the redhead looked towards the door, he paled. And then Draco saw them. Three tall boys, two of them faces he had seen before.
Draco immediately sat up straighter.
All three pairs of eyes fiercely fixated on Harry, flickering up to his scar. Hermione's brother with the dark hair had a horrid sneer on his face with an unhinged look in those dark blue eyes of his. The older boy with the same hair color as Hermione stood in the front, while the other two stood behind him. His right hand was extended to his side slightly, keeping his brother from advancing. It was him that broke the silence. "Word is that the famous Harry Potter is aboard this train," he spoke with ease. Not once did his gaze break from Harry. "Do you reckon that's true?"
The older boy stood tall as he waited for an answer, but Draco knew that Hermione's brother knew exactly who he was addressing. It was typical baiting tactics.
Harry quickly darted a look in both his and Ron's directions before looking up at the older one speaking. "I'm Harry," he answered.
The leader smiled. Draco noted it didn't reach his eyes and his mouth was tight around the edges. Draco read the expression for what it was: trouble.
"You will have to forgive our forward approach but when there is a… celebrity on board, you can't blame us for wanting a peak for ourselves, can you?" he said, accent crisp just as Hermione's had been. There was a look on his face as if he were daring them to say otherwise.
Harry shook his head, "No, not at all. But I-"
"So you agree?" came the sharp voice of the second brother. His interruption threw Harry, catching him like a deer in headlights. "You think of yourself as a celebrity?"
"N-no, I-"
"Don't let him take all of the fun, Harry," the leader tsked. "You should bask in your fame, be thankful for it. Look at all that it's gotten you."
Harry's mouth stayed agap, almost as if in disbelief, but his silence was thick in the compartment, so quiet that all that kept Draco rooted was the soft click-clacks of the railroad beneath them. Harry's silence was enough to allow the older boy to continue on. "I'm Tom Granger," he didn't offer his hand, instead, inclined his head to the right towards the second brother. "This is Cygnus," he moved his head to the left, "-and that is Theodore Nott."
To make matters even worse than they were already turning, Ron chose to clear his throat quite loudly to where Cygnus' hawk-like eyes snapped at the interruption.
His obsidian-blue eyes ranked over Ron in obvious disgust, his face pulled into a sneer. "No need to ask who you are. Red hair, freckles, and hand-me-down robes. You must be a Weasley, the family that had more children than they could afford."
Tom's gaze quickly flickered towards Draco as Cygnus spoke, but dismissed him without another second of consideration. It appeared Weasley was the easier target for them to attack, or at least was dumb enough to capture their attention.
Tom shook his head in disapproval at Ron before he turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find that there are some Wizarding families that are better than others," his eyes gave Ron a pointed look. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sorts, Potter. If you want, we can help you there."
The unspoken question lingered in the air, both Cygnus and Theodore looking at Harry expectantly with gazes that reminded Draco of snakes ready to devour their prey- all coiled and preparing to strike.
In all honesty, he expected Harry to agree with them. It was no secret that the three of them came from affluent backgrounds compared to Ron and perhaps that's what Harry would need being the 'celebrity' and all. But instead, Harry straightened his shoulders and spoke, "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."
A switch had been flipped; Cygnus' eyebrows rows in audacity and shot a look towards Tom, Theodore sneered, and Tom… he seemed humored by Harry's response. The corners of his mouth raised into a slight smile. But then it was gone and he leveled Harry with a look that made Draco want to shrink into the next compartment over.
"I would be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you act a bit more polite, you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasley's and it'll rub off on you," Tom spoke, a gentle but violent warning lingering behind his words. His gaze flickered towards Ron, honing in on the redhead's clenched fists and eyebrows drawn together in a deep scowl, but he merely flickered his attention back onto Harry.
"We just wanted to meet you, get an idea of what Hogwarts would be dealing with for term but there's obviously nothing worth our concern. Present yourself correctly next time, your friend over here is the perfect example," Tom gestured towards Draco but didn't take his eyes off of the one that held his attention. "Until next time, I suppose."
Before any of them could say or do anything, Tom ushered out the two other boys, leaving the three of them wide eyed and speechless.
Harry was the first to move. He marched up to the door and forcefully slid it shut with a bang. In a fluid motion powered by simmering rage, he turned the lock and yanked the blinds down. Draco didn't dare speak, knowing that Harry had every right to recollect himself. Heck, even he needed to gather himself. He hadn't expected things to be so… intense so fast.
After several minutes, however, Ron decided the silence needed to end. "They're the worst," he muttered. "Fred and George always complain about them, those three. Think they own the bloody school just because of who they are."
Draco eyed him carefully, the image of Hermione smiling at him stuck in his mind. She was nothing like them and if he hadn't seen her with them, physically, then he would have never figured they were related. Well, it was quite hard now that he had seen the two brothers up close and could pinpoint the traits they shared with Hermione, but still. He swallowed down the dryness in his throat, "And who exactly are they?" he asked. Part of him didn't know if he wanted Ron to answer that question.
"Purebloods, the worst of the lot," Ron frowned. "Top members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. If you'd heard of their families, you would keep away at all costs. Nott is just a rich kid that stays in their shadow but the other two… They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Granger's father had said they'd been bewitched. My dad never believed it, said that Lucius Granger didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side."
"The Dark Side?" Draco repeated. No, no, no… that wouldn't make any sense. "Are you sure? Would it honestly be that surprising if they actually had been bewitched? It's magic."
Ron shrugged. "If they truly were bewitched then they wouldn't be the way they are now, walking around like they own the place and sneering down at those they deem as their 'inferiors'."
"But you aren't entirely sure," Draco pointed out.
Ron gave him a strange look. "I mean, I suppose not but that-" his baby blue gaze shot towards the door, "- was child's play. I've heard of the stories. They aren't good people, nothing but rotten Slytherins."
Draco wanted to ask more questions but he bit into his tongue, knowing that he wasn't supposed to care as much. He was supposed to take the warning and avoid them like a plague. He wasn't supposed to be curious. But goodness it was hard. It hadn't forbode his attention that Ron hadn't mentioned anything about Hermione, so perhaps-
"So it's just those three that will be the problem? I doubt their fixation with Harry will stop now," he looked apologetically towards the boy who was listening closely but silently.
Ron frowned, "Not sure. I do know that there's a girl, a Granger. I've seen her at the few Ministry events that my father took us to. Along with sons from both Crabbe and Goyle, they're close with the Grangers. Their fathers too were suspected followers of You-Know-Who. Unpleasant lot, if you ask me."
Harry finally chose that moment to speak. "Are you sure they're first years as well?"
"Positive," Ron nodded his head frantically. "I saw them all in Diagon Alley yesterday at a sweet shop. Overheard them talking about it." Suddenly Ron groaned loudly, "That means we will have classes with them. Percy said that Gryffindors are usually paired with Slytherins."
Draco sat back into his seat, feeling defeated like never before. "And you just happen to be sure they'll all be sorted into Slytherin?" he bit out, a snarky retort on his part.
Ron snorted. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see, won't we?"
With pursed lips, Draco prepared himself to give another smart reply, when suddenly a voice from overhead echoed throughout the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
Draco felt knots in his stomach tighten. One glance at Harry said he was feeling the same.
When the train slowed down and finally stopped, students pushed their way towards the doors and out onto a dimly lit platform.
The boy's shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing past the heads of the students.
"Firs' Years! Firs' Years over here!" A giant man bellowed into the crowd. "Firs' Years follow me."
The first year students followed the giant that Harry addressed as Hagrid, down a steep narrow path.
"You'll get yer first peaks at Hogwarts in jus' a moment. It's jus' around this curve."
As Hagrid led the group onwards, everyone gasped. The students stood along the edge of a great, black lake. Perched atop the high mountain stood a vast castle with many towers and windows.
"No more than four to a boat," Hagrid called out as he pointed towards little boats that lined the water's edge. Draco, Harry, and Ron clumsily climbed into the nearest one.
Before Draco settled in the seat, his eyes swept over the heads of the students. It was easier now that there was only perhaps two dozen students that took to the boats. She was easy to spot and he watched as two stockier boys climbed in a boat before her, both holding out their hands and helping her climb in behind them. He figured they were Crabbe and Goyle, the ones Ron had briefly mentioned. But there was another that stood behind Hermione as she settled in. He had dark skin that greatly contrasted Hermione's in the pale light of the moon, but he sat in the space next to her and she quickly gave him a smile.
Draco could feel the frown on his face as he looked on, a horrid feeling eating him from the inside out, but he didn't get to linger on those thoughts long as he suddenly felt the boat shift from side to side.
"S-Sorry! Sorry. Sorry. Didn't mean to make the boat move. Sorry." A boy with extremely large front teeth stepped into the boat and sat next to Ron. "H-Hagrid told me to join you. All the other boats were t-taken." He quickly stuck out his hand and clasped it into Draco's. "I'm Neville." Harry and Ron quickly shook his hand in return.
When the students were settled, Hagrid called out to them. "Onward!"
The word seemed to echo through his skull for a moment, unreal in a sense. Yet still, quietly, he, along with the other first years rowed their small boats closer and closer to the castle; closer and closer to the world that would now be his own. Somehow though, it felt more than that, but Draco didn't let his thoughts linger.
He had a boat to row, after all.
When Hagrid led them to a thick pair of double doors, Draco had to resist the urge to turn around and scan the faces behind him. Well, scan for one particular face, that is. He, Ron, and Harry had stayed glued behind Hagrid which resulted in him not getting to scope out his new classmates as he would have liked. Instead, he stayed huddled in his un-housed Hogwarts robe and waited for- well, he didn't quite know. He figured someone was designated into letting them in, although reaching out and opening the door themselves didn't seem like a far fetched idea either.
When the seconds went by, he was beginning to think they had all been forgotten but then, the doors groaned to life and an older woman- one that he recognised immediately as Professor McGonagall- escorted them inside the castle. The very moment his feet crossed the threshold, Draco felt the air gush from his lungs. His eyes quickly shot from the ceiling to the walls, marveling at the statues and paintings that littered the stone walls. Their footsteps were loud against the stone floor as Professor McGonagall led them further, into a corridor that led to another pair of tall, double doors that Draco could make out light bleeding from the gaps against the floor. From the noise alone he was sure that the entire school was behind those doors.
And sure enough, when the doors breezed open and Professor McGonagall strided through, hundreds of eyes snapped to the crowd of first years. Draco paid none of them attention and instead, kept his gaze to the ceiling as he took in the thousands of candles that were suspended in the air, beneath a ceiling that mirrored the outdoor skies and stars that twinkled. When he moved his head to the side, he saw the rest of the students that filled four long tables, each representing their house colors of blue, green, red, and yellow. From a quick look, the tables looked full apart from a few empty spots at each and he wondered briefly if there would be enough room for the first years that would be joining those tables soon.
Professor McGonagall led them up to the front where there was another long table that stood horizontal to the others and allowed the teachers to overlook the students. It was then that Draco noted a four-legged stool that rested on the stage and on it, was a battered and beaten hat that was frayed along the edges. It was with baited breath that he waited for the Sorting Hat to come to life and when it did, he found his pulse start to beat frantically. It was so surreal to see an inanimate object speak and he had to remind himself over and over that magic would be his new familiarity: magic, magic, magic.
Soon, this would all be normal, he thought to himself.
Although he doubted that he would ever stop getting a rush when seeing such things. They were much too, well, magical.
Hermione hardly listened to the Sorting Hat. She didn't care what it would say; as it was apparently the same year after year, or as Tom and Cygnus had told her. Although even if she truly did try to listen, it would have been incredibly hard as her mind felt as if it were going to explode. She knew she had nothing to worry about, knowing that it was ultimately her choice in which house she would be sorted into but still- it was unnerving knowing that that stupid hat was going to be squirming through her thoughts.
Or, even more imposing, exactly just who she was mulling over.
He stuck out like a sore thumb, with that pale blonde hair of his. No one else had that shade amongst the first years so everywhere she looked, he was always in her frame of vision. Always. She had to stare at the back of his head as that giant oaf led them up to Hogwarts, then had to watch as he made his way into the Great Hall with that ginger waste-of-air and of all people, Harry Potter himself. Which, of course that's who he had to go and befriend. Of all the students, it made perfect sense for him. Just to make her life that much more difficult.
Then again, she had to remind herself with force, it was none of her concern.
She and him would have no contact, no words, no nothing.
So, with more force than she felt was necessary, she tore her attention away from him and onto things that mattered. She turned her head towards the Slytherin table and instantly found the comfort she needed. Cygnus was sitting next to Theo, across from Tom and the empty spot to his right. She had no curiosities as to who the spot was for, nor the ones next to those.
Her attention snapped back towards the stage as she heard Vince groan low to her side. Professor McGonagall had pulled out a scroll and began to read.
In the end, she joined her rightful spot at her brother's side with Vince and Greg. She kept her head held high when Draco's name was called and purposefully ignored the heavy weight of her Godfather's stare as it bore into the side of her face. She didn't turn and watch Draco stride purposefully to the Gryffindor table despite the bad taste in her mouth.
She did flinch, however, when Potter's name was called and she felt the anger and fury and absolute wrath of those all around her. It made the air thick and heavy, and it felt too toxic to inhale. She had to divert her attention down onto her hands in order to avoid the coldness she saw in Tom and Cygnus' sharpened gazes. She had looked briefly at Theo hoping and praying that he would be her closest familiarity, but he too had gone and left in his place was a stranger that had tense shoulders and a jaw that was too clenched. Their reaction had been worse than when Longbottom had been called and that had been bad but this…
Hermione couldn't help but wonder why, in Merlin's name, Potter would be daft enough to come back. Did he expect everyone would be okay with what he represented? That it was he that took the Dark Lord away and now it was them that had to deal with it?
When Potter jumped from the stool, Tom drew in close to her side as he leaned forward to address Cygnus and Theo, "As fucking miserable as possible, starting tomorrow. Understood?" his question was directed more at Theo than Cygnus, but nonetheless, both nodded. There was a sickly grin on Cygnus' face that was reminiscent to the one he wore when he tortured the house elves but those were creatures and Potter was no creature. And there would be, no doubt, professors watching Potter's every move and-
"Hermione," Tom's voice had her jolting back to the present. They were all looking at her expectantly: Cygnus, Theo, Vince, and Greg. She turned her head to the left, meeting her brother's gaze without hesitation. His dark gaze studied her face for a brief moment, softening around the edges as he took her in. "Understood?" he repeated. His eyes still studied her as he awaited her answer as if he were trying to detect the slightest break or slip.
But she knew what he wanted, what he always wanted, and she straightened up and firmly nodded her head. "Understood," she answered.
He considered her for a moment and she desperately tried not to fall beneath the force of his stare, opting for holding his own gaze for as long as she could. But then, he nodded his head, slowly, and the corner of his mouth drifted into a lopsided grin. With his right arm, he wrapped it around her slim shoulders and pulled her in close. His lips planted a quick kiss to the top of her head, his fingers holding her close, tightly against him until he pulled back. His arm brushed down the length of hers before returning to his side.
Soon the list came to an end and she smiled when Blaise Zabini- a boy she met on the train- sat on the other side of her. She may have lost her first friendship but at least she got to keep her second. It was a small victory.
For Draco, the first few days of the term had been a blur of new faces and strange classrooms. And although he had never pondered the possibility of boring classes, he was quite relieved that they were all quite enjoyable; each in their own unique way and yes, that included History of Magic.
The sheer amount of students had taken some time getting used to though. He was used to having volumes of unoccupied space all the time, being homeschooled and as a single child, but it wasn't something that bothered him. Instead (and quite surprisingly), he actually got along well with the other students. Friends had always been an alienated subject growing up but here it seemed that the possibilities were never ending. Harry and Ron were the main two he stayed with but it wasn't rare for Neville or Seamus or Dean to be far away. It was quite fun most times, between classes and rec hours, but it never failed that at the end of the day, he would get the reminder that there was someone missing.
At diner he always managed to sit on the side of the table that gave him direct sight towards the Slytherins and there she would be, nestled between the gang that was ever present, without the slightest care in the world as she mingled and talked and-
He understood. As much as it...pained him to admit, he did. He had been delusional to think that she would approach, that she would walk up to him in a crowded corridor and say 'hi' or ask him to join her in the library or- He understood. Now.
It helped a lot though when Harry and Ron had stormed into the Common Room two nights before, with Ron's face a bright shade of red and Harry so angered that he refused to speak until he calmed down enough to utter a string of coherent words. They had explained how Tom and Cygnus had approached them, insults and jabs hot and heavy, and that it was only the sudden presence of Nearly-Headless-Nick that the confrontation ended. Ron was adamant that if the ghost hadn't shown up, then one of them would have used their wands and done something way worse.
And then, the message was made crystal clear when Crabbe and Goyle had managed to trip Harry in the hall the day before. Draco had been at the front and when he turned towards the commotion, he swore that he locked eyes with Hermione but when his gaze focused on what had transpired, she was turned and talking to a boy with ebony skin, and held not the slightest concern of what her friends had done to Harry. He had bent down to help Harry up and by the time they stood, the four Slytherins were laughing together. Draco had been quick to get back into motion.
So, by the time the third day of term arrived, he considered it both a blessing and a curse that the Gryffindors had yet to be paired with the Slytherins for a class. But of course- of course- they wouldn't be that lucky.
The word around Hogwarts was that Potions was the class everyone dreaded, not because of the subject but because of the Professor who just happened to be the Head of Slytherin and absolutely loathed every other house. So it only made sense that Potions was the class they would share with the snakes. As a joke, the older members of their house had wished them good luck after breakfast and Fred had actually shouted, "Have fun in hell!" when he sauntered out with the others.
Draco had made sure the three of them arrived early for class. The last thing he wanted to do was get on Professor Snape's bad side by being late. He could already imagine that shitestorm.
When they entered the dungeons Draco noticed immediately that it was colder there than up in the main parts of the castle. He couldn't help but wonder about the Slytherin's dorm rooms since they too were located down in the dungeons, or at least that's what the rumor was. Draco honestly couldn't imagine it, even if he tried, as he was so used to the Gryffindor rooms being warm and-
"Well look who decided to grace us with their presence," a cold, female voice teased. Draco had tried to push to the front of the classroom as quickly as he could, trying to bypass the Slytherins that decided they had ownership of the back of the classroom, but of course they were going to say something. It would have been against their nature not to.
Draco had simply shot the girl an unimpressed look but she had her eyes set on Harry and Harry alone. She had a short, black bob haircut and an awful looking pug face that couldn't look pleasing even if the girl tried. But she had drawn everyone's attention and now everyone watched on; green and red clashing violently as they dared each other to take the first move. No one was moving though, knowing it wouldn't be good if any of them did. He quickly scanned the desks as they passed, making sure he looked nowhere near where Hermione sat. She was sitting next to Zabini, with Crabbe and Goyle at the desk behind hers. Her head turned away from him when he passed and he would be lying if he said the action didn't physically stab him in the stomach. He swallowed down the thickness in his throat.
At this point though, Harry was starting to get used to the jibes and continued to make his way to the front with Draco and Ron following close behind. They weren't immune to the laughter that continued to flood from the back. Harry managed to slide in next to Draco just as the door slammed open.
The Gryffindors quickly learned however, that being in the front meant getting all of Professor Snape's attention.
Draco watched the Potions Professor make his way to the front of the room, with his black robes bellowing behind him and black eyes sharp. "There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to enjoy the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few-," Draco watched Snape's gaze flow over his shoulder, towards the direction Draco knew Hermione was at. "-who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death," Snape spoke in barely more than a whisper, but the room was so quiet that they caught every word.
Harry and Draco exchanged looks with raised eyebrows as Snape turned to grab the roll call. Both of them were nervous, and by the looks of it, the rest of their housemates were as well. Draco smothered the urge to twist in his seat to see if the Slytherins were just as worried. But he didn't.
One by one, Snape called their names to check if they were present. Draco noticed that he checked off the names faster than he called them. That meant that he already knew the majority of them. He didn't miss the way the Professor's hand stopped after he checked the name of Neville Longbottom. Suddenly, Snape snapped his eyes to Draco, capturing him as if he were frozen. The Professor's eyes were cold and sharp and made Draco feel like he was drowning in black water, sinking further and further.
"Draco Maddox," his voice called. To Draco's ears, the Professor's tone was darker than before and it had his eyes widening slightly. He couldn't help but wonder if he had done something wrong; perhaps he was sitting in the wrong seat or-or- he couldn't bloody think straight as Snape's black gaze burned holes into his skull. But just as quickly as Snape rounded on him, the Professor turned back to his list and resumed calling roll.
They were nearly done when, "Ah, yes," Professor Snape drawled out, "Harry Potter. Our new- celebrity."
Most of the Slytherins sniggered behind their hands.
Harry didn't make eye contact with the Professor, nor did he comment. He kept his head down and opened up his notebook and began to prepare his notes for class. Draco watched him through the corner of his eyes, silently pleading for him to do something as Professor Snape continued to look at him. This was not a time for Harry to stay silent, he needed to-
"Then again-," came Snape's cold drawl, "-maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not..pay..attention. Potter!"
Draco nudged Harry in the side whenever he noticed Snape narrow his eyes in agitation. Harry raised his head up to the Professor draped in black with worried-filled eyes and the bit of rebellion that Draco was beginning to recognize clearly when it came to his friend. Harry stared openly at the professor.
"Tell me, what would i get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Snape said suddenly.
Draco saw Harry cast a sideways glance in his direction for help, but Draco kept his eyes trained on the desktop.
"I don't know, sir," Harry replied.
Snape's lips curled into a condescending sneer. "Let's try again then. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Draco turned to look at the students in the back that were shaking with laughter. Crabbe, Goyle, and the rest of them were all failing miserably to hide their amusement. He looked towards Hermione and found that she was not laughing along with her classmates. Instead, she had a slight frown on her face and was looking at Harry in disappointment as if she had expected more of him. But then, her gaze slipped to the side and suddenly, their gazes were clashing. His lips parted in shock and she sat up straighter in her chair, allowing the seconds to tick between them like strong pushes and pulls that were in a strange state of equilibrium. Before his mind could recover, she was turning her head away from him and towards Zabini, bringing her elbow up on the desk and using her hand to lean against.
He had thought the sting of rejection would hurt less every time he experienced it, but dear Godric was he wrong. So painfully wrong.
Draco turned away without another thought just as Harry answered for the second time, "I don't know, sir."
There was a horrendous look of success on Professor Snape's face as he stood before them, those black eyes cruel and unrelenting upon Harry. "Last chance to redeem yourself, Potter," he spoke.
"What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"
Draco watched as Harry's jaw clenched deathly tight. "If I knew, then I would answer. Sir."
There was a collective inhale of gasps from the back of the room, many students had their eyebrows raised in bewilderment. When Draco chanced a look at their professor, his face was remarkably… blank. He looked bored and unimpressed but Draco could see the silent fury burning behind the coals of his stare.
"Clearly fame isn't everything," Snape said in that deadly tone of his.
The Potions Professor turned his attention towards the students in the back. "Anyone want to answer the three questions that Mr. Potter failed to do." Draco watched Snape make his way towards the back of the classroom to address the snakes. "How about you, Miss Granger?"
"Asphodel and Wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death," she gave, not missing a beat and not allowing her attention to stray from their professor. "A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save an individual from most poisons. As for Monkshood and Wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of Aconite."
The Slytherins all smiled crooked smiles as they sneered towards Harry and the other Gryffindors.
Snape quickly turned around, his eyes flickering against the students in the front, "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and notebooks. As Snape walked back up to his desk, he stopped beside Harry. "Oh, and Potter.. Ten points will be taken from Gryffindor for your cheek."
Once again, the Slytherins openly laughed. The sound scratched against Draco's eardrums.
Double Potions had been hell, to put it lightly. And that was saying something since Potions was her favorite subject in more ways than one. From having to listen to her housemates poke fun at Potter with jokes that made her want to cringe every time, and having to listen to a lesson she had learned when she was six, and then the worst part of it all was feeling self-conscious like never before to the point where she had even began to calculate how even her breathing should be. No matter how much she tried to ignore him, he was there; not talking or looking, but it was as if his presence was enough to make her go completely ballistic with tension.
And as if double potions hadn't been enough for her torment, her next class was flying. With the bloody Gryffindors. The only positive thing she had experienced in the day so far was having lunch to recollect herself.
"All you have to say is 'Up'," Tom instructed her. "Madam Hooch is going to tell you to talk to the damn thing as if it is a person but-," Tom shook his head, "-just act like its a house elf and order it to do as you say. You have to mean it."
Cygnus snorted. "If it can detect your unwillingness to get on it, it won't move. It's just as scared of you as you are of it."
Hermione frowned. "But it's just a broom. I don't see the importance of making the class mandatory."
"Of course you don't," Cygnus shot back. "But there are some individuals who actually enjoy the damn sport. You have to start somewhere."
"You started at home, just like the majority of those that actually like flying," she pointed out. "So like I said, the class should be a recreational option just as participating in Quidditch is."
Tom smiled behind his cup of orange juice, setting it down at looking at her in amusement. "Sweet sister, there is no getting out of flying lessons. Do the bare minimum and you will be fine. You have been on a broom before."
She gave him a look. "With you. Or Cygnus. Never by myself."
"Well there is a first for everything," Cygnus spoke. "We aren't saying you have to be the bloody best flyer in history, but you have to actually look confident in what you are doing."
"You have the class with Potter," Tom reminded her. "You can't show him- or anyone for that matter- that flying is essentially your weakness." He looked at her with a gentle expression. "Our cousin is right. When you go out there, you must pretend that you know what you are doing. Don't let anyone see that you fear it."
"You can't have people thinking they have an edge on you," Cygnus carried on. "No one, not even your housemates or… friends. Do the lesson, properly, and you'll be done."
Tom nodded, his eyes gliding from Cygnus to her. "It'll be over before you even know it."
She nodded in understanding. They had given her her orders and now she needed to comply.
Hermione finished off her cup of water just as a barn owl flew into the hall. She watched its movements with awe, admiring how smoothly the animal glided in the air. She watched it make its journey until it dropped in front of Longbottom and she watched how a happy smile drifted onto the boy's face as he dug into the gift the owl delivered. She tried to envision her Aunt's smile, if it was wide and bright or barely there, but she couldn't. She couldn't remember it and it was because of that boy and his family.
Hermione let her eyes linger on his expression, deciding that she didn't like it. He didn't deserve it.
At precisely three-thirty, Hermione found herself staring blankly down at the broom resting beside her feet. She had to fight the grimace that threatened to break across her features when she realized the utter state they were in. She had thought that flying on either Tom's or Cygnus' broomsticks had been bad enough but these… there was no way she could get on these. Not when most of them had bristles sticking out at odd angles and wood that threatened to snap at any second under any amount of weight slightly applied. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs and she had to clench her hands shut to hide the trembling.
When Hooch started barking orders, Hermione swore she felt her stomach plummet to the ground. She forced herself not to pay attention to her housemates or the Gryffindors and hardly considered how relatively easy it was because her life was literally at stake here.
As Hooch began to walk up and down the stip of empty space that separates the two houses, Hermione made sure she listened with rapt attention to every word the gray woman spoke. "Now when I blow my whistle, kick off the ground. Keep your broom steady."
She didn't want to do this. Her knuckles were glowing white as she clutched onto the broom.
"Ready!"
No. No, she wasn't ready. Hermione swore she was seconds away from exploding on the spot. Anything would be better than-
"Three- Two-"
Suddenly, there was a startled cry that rang out and every head on the training grounds shot up to watch as Longbottom rose higher and higher off of the ground. Hermione couldn't control staring in horror when he was well over everyone's heads and his scared, pale face looked at the ground with eyes that threatened to bulge from his skull.
She would be lying if she didn't actually feel sorry for him in that moment, but the feeling was buried deep, deep, deep down.
With every passing second, all of the students watched helplessly as the buck-toothed Gryffindor rose higher and higher each second. Madam Hooch was yelling instructions at him but Hermione knew they were useless as Longbottom stared death in the face. Therefore, it was no surprise that a mere heartbeat later he slipped from the broom and fell towards the ground in a heap of black robes, and landing with a loud crack.
Without a second thought, Hermione threw the broom in her hand down. The Gryffindors and Madam Hooch rushed forward while the Slytherins drew back. It was obvious that Longbottom had a broken wrist and needed to be taken to the hospital wing. In Hooch's haste to get the Gryffindor his needed help, she simply yelled at them from over her shoulder to stay put.
Hermione internally groaned. She had been silently wishing- pleading- that class would be dismissed but of course it was expected of her to stay. As if she weren't already miserable.
As soon as their instructor was out of earshot, Hermione made her way to stand closely beside Blaise as Vince and Greg began to laugh; boisterous and loud enough to where the other Slytherins had no problem joining in. She and Blaise shared a look, silently sharing their disbelief at what had happened, and watched as their housemates joked around.
"Did you see his face?" Vince bellowed, his face red with laughter. "The great lump was crying!"
Greg was having difficulty breathing as he clutched at his sides. "I almost expected him to call out for his mummy!" he shouted.
Hermione tensed as few pairs of eyes turned towards her; some with happiness and others with fear. She stayed rooted underneath their judgement, making sure her head was held high and that they all knew she didn't care about their opinions.
But… but those few Gryffindors had looked at her with shiny eyes and deep frowns and it was an expression she had familiarity with; ones that mirrored the house elf's when Cygnus or Tom or her father clutched their wands in their hands with a curse hot on their tongue.
With a harsh jolt, Hermione realized that she had never been on the end of that look before, that those Gryffindors that had glanced in her direction weren't afraid of what had happened to Longbottom or his family, instead, they were afraid of her. They looked at her as if she were the reason Longbottom had no parents.
It stung. For reasons she couldn't begin to describe, it stung badly.
Didn't they know she had lost her aunt and uncle as well? That unlike Longbottom, who could physically go and see his parents at whatever nuthouse they were tucked away in, her aunt was locked away from them and left to rot in a prison. They were all so quick to judge when yet-
Hermione's feet walked forward to join Vince and Greg against the small huddle of confrontation that was beginning to form. Blaise followed close behind and soon, the two of them were just as involved as the others, front and center.
"At least he didn't fall on his head," she teased with her housemates, "Merlin forbid he get any more dense than he already is. A troll makes him look bright."
"Shut up, Granger! How can you be so cruel?!" one of the Gryffindors named Parvati snapped.
Pansy made her way next to Hermione and crossed her arms across her chest. "Does someone have a crush on the fat little crybaby, Pavarti?"
Pavarti bristled at the comment but didn't back down. Just as she was ready to spit fire, Potter pushed his way through. Hermione rolled her eyes at his actions because of course he just has to take a stand when he had no business too. She was beginning to wonder if he had a strange form of narcissism after growing up deprived of attention but she didn't finish her train of thought as a flash caught her eye. Clutched in Potter's hand was the gift he had received at lunch. The oaf must have dropped it when he had fallen from the sky. Before she could stop her impulse, she reached forward and snatched the object from Potter's hand.
A noise of exasperation escaped from Potter's throat as he lunged after her but she had already slid behind Vince and Greg, inspecting the gift for herself as the two in front of her crossed their arms over their chests and glared.
"Give that here, Granger!" Potter yelled.
Hermione feigned innocence as she glanced back in his direction. She held the glass ball up in her hand and smiled, "This?" It was nothing fancy nor important enough that Longbottom would demanding it back. Every story across the Wizarding World had them and really, Hermione had always thought Remembralls were quite useless. Even if it told you you had forgot something, it didn't tell you what it was you had exactly forgotten.
Potter held out his hand, "Now, Granger."
She narrowed her eyes at him. Just who did he think he was? Hermione leveled him with a blank stare and dropped the ball back to her side, answering with a clipped drawl, "No, Potter."
She watched as Potter squared his shoulders, huffed, and tried to reach between the minute space between Vince and Greg. It was an unsuccessful attempt on his part and on impulse, Vince shoved Potter back as the scarhead got too close. Potter stumbled a few paces and with the new space between them, Hermione handed the glass ball to Greg and nodded towards the sky. Greg smiled viciously in return and on que, chunked the object as hard as he could into the air.
The ball glinted as it flew and many of the students, both in red and in green, watched.
"Hope it doesn't break. Potter," Hermione sneered at him, not paying him any attention as she admired how far and fast the ball flew. But the moment was short lived when suddenly Potter hopped onto the nearest broom and kicked off the ground with one good push. Her lips parted in shock when he took to the sky, not believing that he would be stupid enough to disobey Madam Hooch, let alone fly without supervision. She was surprised that none of his housemates had tried-
"Harry!" Draco shouted after him.
Hermione's head snapped in the direction of his voice but found that he was closer to her than she had realized. From where he stood it was apparent that he had been close to where Potter had been standing, which wasn't much of a surprise anymore. She wasn't clueless to who Draco had become… close with, even though Potter and Weasley were the last two she knew would ever suit Draco. She wouldn't act like she knew Draco better than anyone else but she wasn't blind. Hermione had seen their times at dinner, when Weasley would shove food in his mouth and talk in the process, watching as Potter would have no problem yet Draco would have the slightest look of disgust that he failed miserably at hiding. Or when she had observed them in class or steady sessions in the Great Hall and watched as Draco did all of the work, trying his best to help Potter while Weasley put in no effort and simply copied word for word. Hermione didn't know how Draco dealt with them. She had never seen a more juxtaposed group of friends.
With Draco's mercurial gaze glued onto Harry's form, she couldn't help but frown as the concern oozed from him in waves that threatened to drown them all. She wasn't used to seeing so much emotion on one's face but everytime she so much as glanced in the blonde's direction, his face was an open book and she found herself caught in wanting to go and wipe it all away or stare and memorize the features of his face with each emotion he had.
It was an exhausting process and everytime she caught herself staring for just a bit too long, she swore that she would stop. But then seconds later, her attention would betray her and somehow she was looking at him again. An endless and cruel loop that she kept telling herself would end sooner rather than later.
Or, at least she hoped.
Hermione had become so distracted by watching Draco that she had failed to notice that Potter ended up catching the Remembrall and now had his feet planted safely on the grass. She hadn't even noticed that Professor McGonagall was now standing on the field until Vince and Greg were pulling her back.
"HARRY POTTER!" the old woman shouted. It was the loudest Hermione had ever heard the good professor get. Most of the students didn't dare talk but-
Draco was the first to jump to Potter's defense, lurching forward to stand in front of the professor beside his friend. "It wasn't his fault, Professor. It was-" Draco started explaining, his eyes wide and panicked. Hermione expected him to start pointing fingers and spewing her name forth but Draco's voice died off before he went any further.
Weasley on the other hand, had no problem throwing the blame onto her. "-It was all Granger's fault!"
Her gaze flickered to the freckled ginger but snapped back to Professor McGonagall when the woman began to speak again, "That's enough, Mr. Weasley" she seathed. Then, her sharp gaze zeroed on Potter, "Follow me. Now, Mr. Potter."
This time, none of them spoke. The Gryffindors watched in gloom as their star housemate was hauled away; the Slytherins all grinned.
Unlike before, when Professor McGonagall and Potter disappeared, it was Hermione that broke the silence first. "Hopefully he gets expelled," she said, loudly. Her housemates all sniggered.
"I'd rather see the Weasel go," Greg mused beside her, matching her tone. "Imagine how much cleaner this school would be if none of us had to see such a disgrace walk in the halls." For an added effect, Greg sneered at the redhead, eyeing the worn out clothing that hung from Weasley's frame.
Weasley turned a delicious shade of bright red that covered him from the tip of his ears to the ends of his freckled fingers. He had his fists clenched tightly and appeared to be trying to calm himself down. Draco was whispering urgently into his ear, and to Hermione's amazement, Weasley seemed to be listening to him.
Hm, now that was new.
She held her head high and when Weasley threw a dark glare in her direction, she smiled as sweetly as she could. Before either of them could throw insults with the poison lacing their tongues, Draco pulled the redhead's shoulders and pushed him towards the entrance of the castle.
The next morning Hermione was nestled between her brother and Blaise, listening to Cygnus boast about his quidditch training session while she meticulously spread an even layer of jam on her toast. He was already quite… confident that he would be making the team and to her surprise, he had informed both she and Tom that their father had already made the decision to purchase the entire team brand new brooms. She had stayed silent at that, pretending to be too busy eating her toast as Tom expressed his relief that he now had a real reason to attend the quidditch matches. For Hermione, even if she knew every single member of both teams, she would still pass having to sit there and watch them fly by and would very much rather find a nice quiet spot and bury herself into a book, or perhaps a potions lesson with her Godfather. Anything but quidditch.
But it wasn't as if she would dare say that to either Tom or Cygnus. Besides, she was, truly proud of her cousin and wouldn't deny that the first match would be interesting, seeing him decked out in the signature Slytherin gear.
The morning was slipping by effortlessly, filled with soft chatter and content, but it all came crashing down around her when the post was delivered, owls flooding into the Great Hall with a fluff of feathers and squaks. Hermione easily spotted their family eagle owl, Avadis, swoop through the air with the large package clutched in his taloned claws. She beamed in excitement knowing it was packed to the brim with their weekly goodies and as soon as Avadis landed, the three of them tore into it with haste. It was the usual; three velvet black pouches that were stuffed with galleons and various treats to last them through the week. It was routine by now that Cygnus would pocket his pouch and leave the two others for Tom to take. Hermione never liked carrying money and it wasn't as if she ever needed any of it, so she always let one of them take it for her instead. She would bypass the pouches completely and go straight for the letters.
However, before she could get half way through, her skin prickled in discomfort and when she noticed how eerily quiet it had gotten around her, she picked up her head, her questioning gaze going straight for her brother. Tom's brows were drawn together and furrowed as he looked across the hall. When she followed his line of sight, her head cocked to the side as she realized what it was she was looking at.
Every single student in the hall had their curious stares pointed toward the Gryffindor table, watching Potter and those around him unwrap the gift with quick fingers.
It didn't take a genius to know what was inside the packaging.
As if a switch was flipped, Cygnus became enraged. His fists clenched on the tabletop before he whipped his head back around towards them. Hermione had nearly jumped at how fast he had moved. "Why the fuck does Potter have a broom!?"
The fierceness of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
She darted a glance back towards her brother and watched the two of them share a fire brewing between their gazes. Tom's jaw was clenched tight as he had no answer for their cousin.
Tom's silence, however, only infuriated their cousin even more and with a growl, he shot up from his seat and marched straight for the doors. Those students that happened to be standing practically dove out of the way when he stormed past them. Hermione could only watch in silence as he disappeared.
She looked back towards Potter and was overwhelmed with a sudden amount of hatred that filled her to the brim. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Potter could break the rules and then get rewarded with a bloody broom; wasn't fair that he could enter Hogwarts with as much talent as that of her pinky and suddenly become every professor's favorite. Then again, if Potter was so set on playing quidditch, by all means, she wanted him to. Let the blasted scarhead go out there and think he was good, let him go out there so Cygnus and the others could accidentally send a bludger to his head and make him equivalent to that of a vegetable. She could only hope for such an outcome.
Her thoughts were put aside when Tom began to stand up and not knowing what else to do, she began to follow his lead. But then, his hand was pushing her back down and she stared up at him questioningly.
"Stay here," he instructed her. He wasn't giving her an option, his demand clear to his ears. Tom inclined his head towards Theo then silently jutted his chin towards the door. Theo got up without a word.
Tom didn't spare her a second glance before he and Theo were striding after Cygnus.
Silence washed over their table like a thick blanket of fog and it was uncomfortable by all means. She kept her head down but she could feel the others staring at her; Vince, Greg, Blaise, and the ever nosy Pansy Parkinson. Hermione picked apart the muffin on her plate instead of meeting them head on.
It was Pansy that was bold enough to break the silence, "Soo…" she drawled out. "What position do you think Potter will make since he's obviously on the team now?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance, "I don't bloody care."
When the doors of the Great Hall closed behind Granger and Nott, the three of them turned their heads together at once to face each other.
Ron was grinning from ear to ear like a fool, his mouth stretching wide, "Just imagine the looks on their faces whenever they see you actually playing," Ron gushed out.
Harry nodded in agreement. He looked over Ron's shoulder towards the Slytherin table and Draco was quick to do the same. With the three older boys gone, Draco couldn't help but note how Hermione looked awfully… lonely. She seemed small not having their shadows towering over her and every part of Draco wished he could just go and sit right there next to her and not have the slightest care in the world.
"I should probably go and thank her," Harry sarcastically proclaimed, his green eyes full of mirth as nodded in Hermione's direction. "Because, really, if it wasn't for her then I would have never gotten on that broom."
Draco hummed in response, trying to be humorous about the whole situation but it lacked its true effect. "I think she would quite like that."
Ending Note: Goodness, I am merging all of these chapters together instead of having all of these short chapters because I don't want this fic to have 100+ chapters. I want to keep about 3 chapters for each school year so that it will leave plenty of room for the ending.
Those of you that were readers of the original fic, I am going in and trying to clean up my characters and story line from the first version that really needed to be revised. So yes, I know these updates need to be asap but I'm trying my very hardest to make this story as perfect as possible. It is only the first three years that needed to be heavily revised and once those are out then the story will fly by with the new stuff. So HANG IN THERE WITH ME LOVES!
And if anyone reads any of my other stories, I have decided that reviews will push this story forward as which ever story gets more reviews then obviously that is the next story I will be updating. That being said, be expecting an update for the Good Son :)