Chapter 10

"You- You-"

"Regulus Black," the boy said with a smile, extending a hand which she didn't even see; she was too busy staring at him to notice.

Regulus Black? Regulus Black was the one who had led her through the Castle not a month ago and showed her to Dumbledore's office? Regulus Black was-

-in front of her right now, introducing himself as she just rudely stared at him.

She shook herself and raised her eyebrows at him. "I thought we had a deal?"

His smirk widened. "I do believe that deal has become rather obsolete, now that we are fated to walk the same corridors and share a class for the rest of the year."

It was Hermione's turn to smile. She took his hand, shook it once, and said, "Hermione Dumbledore."

"Pleased to meet you."

"And you."

And that was that. The both of them turned back to their desks as their Professor continued to place his students, and the silence between two near strangers had never felt so comfortable.

It didn't last very long.

"So you're a Dumbledore, huh?" he asked, smirking as he gave her a sideways glance. "Don't tell me you're the old man's daughter?"

"In more ways than one, I am. Not that it's any of your business, of course."

"Of course." Hermione could hear the smile in his voice. For some reason, it made her want to smile, too. Smiles around her had been rather rare ever since the previous evening and her Sorting into Slytherin. She hadn't had the opportunity to talk to the Marauders since; had avoided them as much as she possibly could, if she was completely honest with herself.

"So, are you related to Sirius?" she asked curiously.

The smile fell of his face. "He is my older brother, however much I loathe the fact."

"Your brother? How come you're in the same year then?"

He shook his head. "I am a Sixth year. Advanced Potions is the only class I have in common with Seventh years, due to the superiority of my skills in the subject."

"Show off much?" she taunted him.

"No," he said simply, his voice flat. "There is no harm in taking pride in one's own most prominent skills."

"No, I suppose not," Hermione murmured to herself, so quietly he nearly didn't hear her.

"Another reason to confirm your belonging in Slytherin, if the Hat's decision alone were not enough to convince you." His smile was back, and he still wasn't looking at her.

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously, stealing him a glance.

"Your ability to soak in what you hear. Gryffindors are too stubborn in their convictions to even consider others' views. Ravenclaws are even more so, and Hufflepuffs bother not listen to lengthy theories on the meaning of life. Yet you ponder everything you hear; you don't take it for granted, but neither do you outright reject it. You have the ability not only to learn, but to think. You would never have belonged with the lions. They are brash creatures; unworthy of your capabilities, really."

"I… Thank you," Hermione said after a moment, a little surprised at his analysis of her.

"You are welcome. Both for what I said, and in this House. It is your Home now. Don't you forget that. No matter what anyone says, the Sorting Hat sent you here for a reason. You have a bright future ahead of you; all Slytherins do. Nobody of Slytherin can forget that."

Hermione wasn't sure what to answer to that, so it was a good thing Slughorn decided to start the class then. He told them to open their books at page 10 of their textbooks; they were to prepare a Liquid Death potion before the end of the class. He finished his instructions by telling them that no student of his had ever managed the task, and showed them the vial of Felix Felicis, or liquid luck, which was to be won by whoever succeeded.

Regulus turned to her. "Have you ever brewed a Liquid Death potion, Miss Dumbledore?"

"Never."

"Then let me teach you."

Hermione looked at him, slightly taken aback. For one, the name 'Liquid Death' itself didn't seem particularly reassuring. How did a sixth year know how to make it when it was obviously not a potion taught even to the seventh years present in this room? And for two…

Why did the prospect of competing in brewing potions with Regulus Black on her first day of class seem so…exciting?

She grinned at him. "With pleasure, Mr Black."

X

In the next double hour, the youngest Black taught her to chop, slice and crush; to measure, scale and weigh; to drop, slide and add ingredients to the mix and to never underestimate the difference a single word could make in a recipe. Slughorn passed their table with an approving nod each time, and each time he did Regulus and Hermione shared a conspiratorial grin before bending back over the bubbling cauldron.

As they worked through each step of the recipe inscribed on page 10 of the Potions Book, Hermione let slip every bit of stress and tension she'd let pool over the course of the two days that had followed the Sorting Ceremony. Two days during which she'd locked herself up in the Slytherin Common Room, and done nothing more than twirl her wand in her fingers while staring at the blazing hearth. She'd spoken to no one, had only sat there transfixed as she brooded over how she would manage avoiding the Marauders for the rest of the school year. She had no idea what they thought of her, but she had a feeling that, were they to catch hold of her somehow, what they'd have to say to her would be less than courteous. The looks they'd given her when the Hat had announced his decision had been enough of an indication of that.

She had no doubt that, in the boys' minds, there had been as little doubt that she would end up in Gryffindor as there had been in hers. Hermione still remembered assuring McGonagall, and then old Filch, that she knew, instinctively, that she would end up in Gryffindor, just hours or minutes before the Hat announced to the world that she belonged with the snakes. Her reasoning had been that if she were a spy, she had best join Slytherin, yes; but when the Hat had told her, beyond a doubt, that she was not a spy, she had thought that that meant that she would be able to join the Marauders in Gryffindor.

How wrong had she been?

But if she was not a spy, what other reason was there for her to be in Slytherin?

She didn't know, and in a way, she also knew that she did not want to know.

"Hey. Concentrate, princess."

Regulus' voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and she refocused her gaze on their cauldron. The mixture was slowing turning from a vibrant violet to a metallic grey, as indicated in the final stages of the recipe.

They'd changed some things in the recipe. Details, after Regulus had taken the time to explain the logic of the changes to her. Though she didn't quite understand why the recipe written in the book wasn't exactly correct and needed to be changed, she could see that their potion was already more advanced than any of the others' around them, so she didn't question Regulus' decisions any farther, only watched and learnt even as she filed it away in her brain to ask him about it later.

"Princess?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Regulus shrugged, his eyes fixed on the potion. "Professor Dumbledore is much the like of a king here. And since you are his daughter, in 'more ways than one', as you put it…" He looked at her then. "Yes. Princess. You have the eyes of one."

Her second eyebrow rose to join the other at that. "What do my eyes have to do with anything, pray tell?"

The boy shrugged again, and his gaze fell back to the potion. When his eyes fell away she felt she'd lost some part of his interest for her, and her heart gave a pang. "'The eyes are the window to the soul'," he cited simply. "Yours, mine, there is no exception." He met her gaze again, and though her heart lifted at that, she also felt as though he had suddenly striped her bare with his eyes. "I see you," he said, intently. Hermione held her breath.

"Now, now, what do we have here?"

They looked up in sync as Slughorn bent over their cauldron. "Shall we?" he whispered to them, conspiratorial, oblivious to the fact that they were staring rather hostilely up at his jovial face. He winked at them, lifted a hand, and the tiny leaf in his fingers drifted slowly down to the surface of their potion.

It touched the surface, and was slowly consummated, the burn of the potion spreading from the edges inward, until there was nothing left of it but a filet of smoke.

"Close to perfection," Slughorn whispered to them, and winked again. He moved on. And by the looks on the others' faces, though they hadn't quite followed what had happened previously, it was obvious that theirs was the best potion so far.

In front of Hermione, Evans, the red headed Gryffindor, and the girl which she remembered as the Ice Princess and James' soon-to-be sweetheart, was in the process of staring daggers at her. Hermione held her gaze, raising her eyebrows.

Suddenly, she felt Regulus moving closer to her, his breath fanning her ear as he leaned in and began speaking. She shivered, and stood up straighter. "And that," he breathed into her ear," is how to get the Gryffindor House at your back on your very first day." Something in his voice just…got to her. She wanted to lean in closer to him, to grab his face and shoulders and pull him in and… She shivered again, mouth parting in an uncontrolled breath. Fuck. This feeling…

She turned her head, and met his gaze. Both of them were frozen for several seconds, grey eyes and hazel ones searching the other. Their breaths were short, their hands and fingers restless, their bodies shaking. Some force pulling them together, forcing them apart and enraging their souls, all at the same time. A maelstrom of emotions, directed at only one person; the one facing them at that particular moment.

An exclamation coming from the back of the class dragged their eyes away from each other, and they both turned to find Slughorn, already at the far end of the class, bent over a long-nosed Slytherin student's cauldron.

Beside her, she felt more than saw Regulus smile an ironic smile, and he breathed: "Severus." She gave him a sideways look, then fixed her eyes back on the long-nosed student, whose name she supposed was 'Severus'. Straight, greasy black hair, bangs hiding his face, large, re-accommodated slacks, downcast eyes and yet a tilt to the chain that was proud and secretive, arrogant and hidden. He barely acknowledged Slughorn as the big-bellied man bent over his cauldron and hummed appreciatively, then exclaimed as the tiny leaf dissolved before it had even touched the surface of the potion. He just turned his head away as the teacher congratulated him and his reluctant partner – a small Slytherin girl whose face looked as bitter as the potion probably tasted and was snarling at him unbidden. She'd probably done nothing at all and just let the boy do all the work.

Slughorn moved back to the front of the class, mumbling all the while about having pleasant surprises in students on the first day back from holidays. He snatched the Felix Felicis vial up from its stand on his desk, then theatrically held it up for everyone to see, beckoning the black-haired boy forward with a tilt of the hand and a gleam in his eyes.

Hermione watched as the boy with the crooked nose slid from behind his desk like a snake out of its den. He kept his face down; his fingers were nervous, clenching and unclenching spasmodically by his sides; his steps were wide, deliberate, and yet tripping, as though he were about to fall over his own feet. His shoes were worn and looked too big for him, while his pants were too short and gave away scrawny ankles and dirty-looking, grey, distended socks.

Slughorn dropped an obviously heavy and sweaty hand on the boy's shoulder, and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at the distaste on Severus' face, while Regulus smiled secretly and crossed his arms over his chest. "Severus Snape!" Slughorn was all but chanting as he handed the black-haired boy the vial of Felix Felicis and the rest of the class glared on. Hermione inched her head closer to her desk partner's and whispered:

"You seem to know him pretty well."

Regulus glanced sideways at her, raising an eyebrow. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Well, you called him by his first name when you pointed him out to me," she shrugged, looking back to the teacher and his prize-student. "And, while the rest of the class seems to be glaring daggers at him, you are the only one here who actually seems happy for him and not completely pissed at losing that vial."

"You are not 'glaring daggers at him' either, as you put it so eloquently," he pointed out with a smile.

Hermione laughed quietly. "But that's only because I'm new," she reminded him with a wink.

"That is true," he nodded. "Yes, I know him. Severus Snape has been acing Potions ever since he first arrived here. How do you think I know so much about the subject myself?" he asked her. "I am not a genius," he said, "but Severus is. Through hard work and practice, of course, but he was the one to inspire me for it."

"You sound like good friends."

"He has no friends."

Surprised, Hermione turned to him this time, her eyes wide. "Ugh?"

But Regulus just shrugged and kept his eyes away. "You will understand soon enough. That is just how he is."

Taken aback by the younger Black's statement, Hermione turned back to face the front of the class. Her mind reeled as she focused again on the long-nosed boy who was making his way back to his desk, and his name popped up into her head as she took it in for the first time. Severus Snape… It sounded familiar somehow.

"Do you make that deal with everyone?" she asked him suddenly.

Regulus looked down at her curiously, his eyebrows raised in question. "What deal?"

"Our deal. 'We are not friends and we never will be.' I remembered it, just like you told me too." She winked at him before turning away again. "So, did you make that same deal with him?" She nodded back to where Severus Snape had taken his seat.

That smile was suddenly back on her partner's face. "No, I did not. You…were a special case," he said cryptically, and Hermione blushed as she wondered what he meant by that. "And, as a matter of fact, I think I may be about to break my own word in the matter."

"Which means?"

"Which means, Miss Dumbledore, that I would be honoured to be able to call you my friend."

X

"The Dungeons are the lowest floor in Hogwarts. They hold, amongst other things, the Potions classroom, the Slytherin Common Rooms, which you already know, the Hufflepuff Common Rooms, and the Kitchens. The Boathouse is also there, which is the first thing first years see when they are brought into the school. Above that comes the Ground Floor. The Entrance Hall, the Great Hall and the Transfiguration classroom are all places you need to remember are there. The Grand Staircase begins there too.

"The First Floor holds several classrooms in addition to the Infirmary and the Girls' Lavatories. One of them has been out of order for decades – friendly advice, do not go near it.

"The Second Floor holds the DADA Professor's Office."

"DADA?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. You'll find out about that soon enough.

"The Third Floor has the Library and the Charms Classroom. The Fourth Floor holds the Restricted Section of the Library - you can only consult it with a Professor's written permission – and a study area for students. On the Fifth Floor is the Prefects' Bathroom, which you and I already know of. Slughorn's Office is on the Sixth floor. On the Seventh Floor is the Fat Lady's Corridor, which Gryffindors use to access their Common Room in a tower of the East Wing. The Towers of the Castle also have their importance. Among them are the Astronomy Tower, the Bell Tower – where Filch has his office -, the Grand Staircase Tower with the Headmaster's Office, the Ravenclaw Tower, and the West Tower where the Owlery is."

"Okay. So where are we going now?"

"You did choose your Electives, right? Since you are a new student, You have at least two subjects to choose in addition to the seven core subjects."

"Oh," Hermione deadpanned, taken aback. "Electives? Are those the optional subjects?"

"Yes. Alchemy, Apparition, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Muggle Studies, and Studies of Ancient Runes."

"What do you have?"

"If I told you now, I fear it would influence your own choice of subjects," he laughed, winking down at her. "You only have to chose two or more of the Electives, and present yourself as you go to your teachers telling them you have chosen their class as an Elective. They will mark you down on a list and call your name out the following class. Simple as that. Your final timetable for the week will be delivered at the Slytherin Common Room, I suppose, as is usually done with Third Years when they choose their Electives."

"Seems simple enough. All right then. Apparition… What's that?"

"It's a wizard's ability to 'Apparate', which means to…teleport oneself, in a way, from one place to another."

"What about Muggle Studies? I heard Dum- my father and James say that word, but I never asked what it meant."

Regulus stopped walking and turned to look at her, a bemused look on his face. "You do not know what a Muggle is?"

She shook her head. "Well, no. I don't really know much of anything besides what I've been taught within these walls the past few months," she admitted sheepishly.

The youngest Black was looking at her in a queer way now. It was that look again, the one that said he was seeing something in her that she couldn't, the look that she'd seen on his face several times before, back when they'd first met and she did not know who he was and vice versa. "Interesting," he murmured to himself, and she wondered then if she'd been right to tell him about this. But he turned back and resumed walking as suddenly as he'd stopped, and she forgot all about that fleeting impression as he answered her previous question: "Muggles are beings without magic; humans like us who live in a world without magic and who are kept in ignorance of its existence."

"And we study their lives?"

"The way they live, their history, their technology, their art, their music, etc etc."

"Alright. I think I can guess what the others are about. I'll pick… Apparition, Care of Magical Creatures, and Muggle Studies. How does that sound?"

She caught up to him as she finished looking over her temporary timetable, and caught his eye just as they were exiting the Dungeons and ascending towards the Great Hall and the beginning of the Grand Staircase. She was surprised to see him wearing a sideways smile.

"You will most likely be the first Slytherin in a hundred years to study Muggle Studies for their NEWTs, but I, for one, do not see anything wrong with that."

"Well," Hermione said, feeling challenged, "I don't see why any one House in particular wouldn't want to learn about another way of living."

Regulus shot her a look, and Hermione stalled and fell back a step as she realized she was missing something.

"I will explain later," he said quietly, his face darkening. "I realize now that I had begun, but not finished, telling you the Founders' stories. For now, it appears that we have another class in common. Follow me. I'll lead you to the Grounds for your first Apparition class."

A/N: Hey guyz! I'm sorry, I know it's been close to a year and a half since I last updated… I only recently got my computer back and fixed, and I've been having mental and physical health issues that have kept me from writing all this time. I wrote this chapter in one go, in maybe five hours, and it was my first time writing again in over a year. I've lost confidence in my writing skills due to my health issues, so this chapter is a bit of a confidence boost for me since I managed to finish it after stalling for over a year.

Please tell me if you like it. I really need to hear that right now…

Thank you for keeping with me all this time, and I hope you like this new chapter. Hermione's really starting to get settled at Hogwarts now, so things are going to move along a little faster now.

~Tenshi