{A/N: Sorry for the shorter chapter, I'll be a little busier in the next week but I'll make an attempt to get something out to you!
Hermione lies in her new bed, covered to her chin by a maroon comforter with a golden Gryffindor symbol adorning the middle. The words of Headmistress McGonagall echo through her mind as she stares up at the white ceiling. She was right. It's Hermione's turn now to focus not only on what she needs, but what she wants. There's was no dark lord to defeat, no horcrux to search for, and no friends who required life-saving help.
The witch had been so exhausted the previous night that she had barely taken in the surroundings of her first private bedroom at Hogwarts. Immediately after nodding a farewell toward Malfoy, she retreated to her room. Laying in bed, she had grabbed her wand from the bedside table, locking the door. As she had drifted off to sleep, thoughts of the year echoed throughout her brain. There seemed to be a common theme within her dreams; unity.
But now, having gone to sleep at nine, she could no longer sleep. The clock on the opposite wall read four fifteen. Hermione rolls out of bed, brushing the deep red curtains to the side. A sliver of orange light peaks over the mountaintops, barely visible. She had nearly two hours left before she could head down to breakfast. Hermione unlocks the bedroom door, venturing out into her common room.
The wood within the fireplace is burning, flames warming up the room and serving as the only light source. A green plaid blanket she hadn't previously noticed lays on the couch, looking inviting as the cold wooden floors meet her bare feet. Grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around her, she hums to herself. The scent of old books and mint overwhelms her senses. For a throw blanket, it is very large and covers the entirety of her body, allowing herself to cocoon within it.
The crackling of the logs fill her ears for what feels like only seconds. It proves to be longer, as she is awakened by doors opening and closing. Hermione straightens herself up from her slouched position, stretching her neck and causing it to crack a few times. Rubbing her eyes, she sees a figure standing not far from her. She struggles to make it out as she blinks profusely.
"Stealing my things now, Granger?" the shape asks. She instantly recognizes the voice as her one and only fellow Head.
"What do you mean?" she asks, forcing down a yawn. Her eyes focus on him just in time to see the blonde boy nod down at the blanket surrounding her.
"This is yours?" Malfoy nods once more. "Oh! I'm… sorry." She hesitates, reluctant to pull it off, even after the newfound discovery that it belongs to one of her least favorite wizards. "It's comfy."
"I'm aware." She finally shrugs it off, finding no other excuse to hang onto it. He takes it from her outstretched hand, holding it to himself. "I used to keep it in the library in my home. This reminds me of it."
She smiles.
"You should probably get ready," he suggests.
Hermione's eyes dart to the clock which now points to six. She shoots off of the couch, leaving Malfoy behind as the door to her bedroom closes behind her. Taking a look in the mirror, she groans at her frizzy hair. The trunk near her wall is flung open as she searches desperately for some of her hair product to attempt to tame it. Upon finding the bottle, Hermione squirts some into her palm and runs it through her tangled locks. It works half as well as she had hoped, but she has thirty minutes until she feels that she has to be in the Great Hall for breakfast.
As she retrieves her wand from the drawer, she casts her usual spell in order to make the tip of it hot. As Hogwarts has always been unable to use electricity due to the high level of magic surrounding everything, she'd learned to adapt by using magic to replace what she had previously relied on power for. Taking the heated wand to her hair, she wraps a thick chunk around it before allowing the chestnut strands to curl. This method takes only a few minutes, and she exits her room after throwing on a robe and some light makeup. As she had assumed, Malfoy is gone, presumably having gone to breakfast.
By the time Hermione reaches the Great Hall, it's almost entirely full. Owls begin to swoop down over the crowd, dropping off letters and packages to the students. A cluster stands at the front of each of the four tables. She quickly realizes that it is the prefects handing out schedules to each of the students in the house. They rattle off names over the commotion as kids scramble to get theirs. Those who have received them are trading off with their friends, hoping to have as many classes as possible with each other. Hermione fights through the crowd to seek out Ginny who sits in the first seat at their table.
"Have you got your schedule yet?" she asks the red-headed witch.
She shakes her head. "They started with first years at six and they're still on the fifth years."
The girls watch the Gryffindor prefects hand out schedules until Harry shows up, glasses crooked and hair disheveled as he plops down on the bench next to Ginny, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Who wants to bet that I'm going to be in Trelawney's class again?" Harry groans.
Hermione snarls. "Ditto. Apparently it is crucial to my future now. Lovely."
As if on queue, Ron hands an envelope over the table to her. She takes it eagerly and tares open the paper. Folding it open, she looks over the schedule. Of course, Divination is indeed part of her daily routine from now on. Charms, Potions, and Transfiguration remain a part of her curriculum. As for electives, she had chosen Alchemy. This gave her two free periods to study. She, as well as Harry and Ron, no longer have to take Defense Against The Dark Arts. Even Hermione cannot think of much that she would be able to learn in the classroom that she hadn't already known after partially running the second wizarding war.
"What've you got second?" Harry asks as he opens his own schedule.
"Charms."
Ginny slides her finger through the paper, scrambling to open it and begin comparing. "Me too!"
"First?" Hermione asks.
"Free period," Harry answers.
"Muggle studies," Ginny responds.
Ron joins the three at the table after finishing up the passing out of Gryffindor schedules. His own is in his robe pocket, already opened. "I've got that, too!" he chimes in.
Hermione listens as the other three go through their schedules. Ginny would be there to witness her suffering in Divination fifth period, but the boys were able to skip it this year. Though Hermione had no classes with either, she had the two with Ginny and they each had a free period at the end of the day. Satisfied enough with her schedule and full after eating their first breakfast of the year, she sets off to the dungeon for her potions class.
The air around her begins to cool down and brings goosebumps to the surface of her skin despite the thick robe. She tugs the top closer to her bare neck. As she enters the dungeon, her eyes scan the spots. Few are taken as class does not begin for another ten minutes. Not only does she spot Dean and Luna together, but she also sees a few boys in emerald green ties. As many of her classes were only shared by two houses a few years back, Hermione suspected that the headmistress was loosening up those rules in an attempt at full Hogwarts unity.
She waves at her two friends, grabbing a seat a few feet to the right at the next table. "How are your mornings?" she asks.
"I found a Flurtail in my old robe," Luna says.
Hermione nods, pretending to know what the creatures are, and pretending to care. "That's great."
"I saw it," Dean adds on. "It was… weird."
"Lovely." Hermione plasters a smile to her face. Not long into their awkward conversation, a cluster of students file through the door. She notices that many of them are Slytherins. Some of Snape's bias still seems to be showing.
The bright blonde hair of her fellow head comes through the door behind many of his friends. He is the last to come in, save for Professor Slughorn. By the time he surveys the room, most of the seats are taken though the one next to Hermione remains. The two students lock eyes, and she knows instantly that he's going to opt for the spot at her table.
He falters a bit before heading over and plopping down next to her. His books are set in the corner. Malfoy clears his throat as he looks over at Hermione. "So, Granger… looks like we're partners."
"Apparently so…. Just don't mess any of my potions up."
"Please, I got an Outstanding on my O.W.L.s! Don't forget who you're speaking to."
"An outstanding as a Slytherin from Professor Snape. I'm not impressed, sorry."
He scowls. "Bug off."
Hermione welcomes the beginning of Professor Slughorn's speech. "Welcome, students, to your seventh year of potions. To be quite honest, I was a bit preoccupied celebrating the end of the war this summer so I don't yet have much planned. But no worries! We'll revisit our first lesson of sixth year and I'll discuss some of the repercussions of using such potions."
He digs behind his desk and pulls out a tray with ingredients. There is a vase filled with thorny roses, a basket of small eggs surrounded by ice cubes, and three containers filled with powders. "We will be experimenting with love potions once more. I doubt many of you will succeed, and I will be keeping a close watch to ensure that no one manages to smuggle some out… again." He clears his throat. "Right, so if you'll look into your textbook, page 1,683, you'll find your list of ingredients. I have everything up here, all you need to do is measure."
Hermione flips open her textbook, eyes instantly falling on the potion name. Amortentia. She recalls smelling the most enticing thing she has ever had the pleasure of sniffing. Malfoy peers over her shoulder to view the measurements instead of grabbing his own book. "I'll gather the ingredients," he offers, standing up and budging his way through the line around the tray Professor Slughorn set out.
He quickly brings back each of the ingredients and begins to prepare the cauldron. She cuts the thorns from the roses, pricking her fingers a bit too much for comfort. Hermione then frees the egg from its icy shell, chopping it into tiny pieces. She pulls the textbook into her lap and begins to instruct Malfoy as he adds ingredients slowly, painstakingly stirring through it. Hermione almost finds it boring, though he seems to know what he's doing. Maybe he did indeed deserve an Outstanding grade, as she would have moved on long ago if she had stirred it.
With ten minutes remaining in the class period, several students' cauldrons have boiled over. Malfoy remains focused even through the commotion caused by overflowing potions. Amongst the burning scent that had filled the room, a glorious one fills her nose. Hermione drops her textbook back on the table, rising from her spot and attempting to get a better smell of the potion. She notices that Malfoy can't help but drift toward their golden cauldron as well. As with the last time she had smelled the potion, newly cut grass and parchment fill her nose. This time, the parchment smelled more like old books in a full library and less like a newly purchased roll. Spearmint cuts through the burning, but she also senses the scent of a fireplace. The combination brings her back to the morning as she fell asleep in front of it, with the exception of the grass.
As she pulls herself away, she notices Malfoy staring at her. "What?"
His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "When did you start wearing so much perfume?"
