Author's Note: Hi everyone! I'd like to warn you that since this is my first fic ever, there are going to be some changes to both the story description and plot very soon. I'm kind of coming up with this as we go, so if you see something different in the description don't be too surprised. Also, I'm trying to come up with a better name for the story, so if you have any suggestions please let me know. Thank you again for sticking with me this far. All reviews, favorites, and follows are much appreciated.


Hermione went out to the common room and was surprised to find Blaise there waiting for her.

"Morning," she said groggily, still tired from her restless sleep. She noted that he looked tired as well, with dark circles under his eyes.

"Granger," he began with a sigh. "I need to apologize for how I reacted last night. When you brought up the final battle it drudged up bad memories." He ran a hand through his curly hair and turned towards the window.

"It's alright, Blaise. I was going to apologize as well. I should have known better to bring it up. I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it."

He turned back to face her with a small smile. "So we're all good then?"

"Yes, we're good. Look, I know that we were never really friends over the years. Actually, we hardly talked. But I just thought that since we're going to be working together a lot this year, we could put house rivalries and previous opinions aside? After all we're supposed to be promoting house unity," she said nervously.

To her surprise, he relaxed and smiled even wider. "I was going to suggest the same thing. What better way to promote unity than have a Gryffindor and a Slytherin working together and being amicable? I bet McGonagall had that planned from the beginning."

"Yes, I suppose she did," she laughed. "Shall we go down to breakfast?"

"Lead the way, Granger."

"Hermione," she corrected.

"Whatever you say, Hermione," he said with a smirk, putting extra emphasis on her name. Hermione smiled at him, feeling lighter than she had in months.


A few weeks passed and Blaise and Hermione had settled into a comfortable routine. They would walk to breakfast together in the mornings and go their separate ways until they had advanced potions together in the afternoon. They sat with each other and partnered whenever necessary.

In the evenings they would meet with the prefects immediately after dinner to check for any updates and review any changes in house points for behavioral issues. When they came back from their patrols they would sit in the common room with the fireplace on, reading or doing homework. Blaise would often fall asleep, only to be woken by Hermione as he had nightmares. They never talked about the nightmares. They didn't need to.

Much to Hermione's disappointment, Harry still hadn't written her back. She understood though, he was busy. Auror training was one of the most intense programs a young wizard could get into, and he had told her before she left that he might not always have time to write. Perhaps she was being silly for being a little bit upset, but she really couldn't help it. After everything they had been through together one would think he could take fifteen minutes and write her at least a brief note. She was lonelier than she cared to admit, even with her newfound friendship with Blaise.

Blaise had been a great help to her as a friend. He was intelligent and empathetic, something which she had never really found in Harry or Ron. Harry had always been smart, but he was always blinded by his magical talent and luck. And Ron…well he was Ron. She found that Blaise was someone she could talk to about almost anything. It also helped that he was in pretty much the same situation that she was, outcast by his housemates, never really fitting in and keeping to himself.

Now, the two of them sat in the common room. Hermione was at the desk area scribbling furiously and surrounded by books. Blaise was lounging on one of the couches flipping through a quidditch magazine.

Hermione ran her hair through her messy curls frustrated at her essay.

"That bad?" Blaise smirked from the couch. She got up from the desk and plopped down on the couch across from him.

"I've been rewriting my last paragraph for our potions essay and I still can't get it right," she huffed, crossing her arms.

"Relax. You still have another two weeks before it's even due." She glowered at him in response. Blaise was a very good student, but he was the type that would do his work a day or two before it was due and still get good marks. That frustrated her beyond belief.

"Easy for you to say. You do yours at the last minute and still do well."

There was a knock at the door and Blaise walked over to answer it. Professor Slughorn stood before them with a warm smile.

"Ah my two prize pupils! How are we this evening? I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Hello, Professor Slughorn. How can we help you?" Hermione greeted him from the desk. Blaise invited him in and the three of them sat on the couches together.

"I've decided to reinstate the Slug Club this year," he said enthusiastically. "And I was hoping very much that you two would join me."

"Of course we would, professor." Blaise said looking at Hermione for approval. She nodded in response.

"Absolutely. Will there be a welcome party as before?" Blaise asked. Slughorn grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes! It will be this weekend at 7. I should go invite the others. I'll see you two at the party," he said cheerfully and left the room, humming to himself as he went.

"Who else do you think Slughorn is inviting to his little club this year?" Blaise snickered.

Hermione glowered at home. "The Slug Club is a well-respected tradition of his and an honor to be a part of. Weren't you in it at one point?"

"Yeah but I must admit I thought it was a little silly. Plus the party was kind of stuffy."

"I can't argue with you on that," she conceded, remembering her disastrous night hiding from Cormac McLaggen. "I bet he's inviting the other Ravenclaws that are in our potions class. They're quiet but they always seem to make the potions correctly and quickly." There were three Ravenclaw students in their class, two boys and a girl. The boys would always sit together but the girl would often sit with a Hufflepuff boy.

"He might invite Draco," Blaise said thoughtfully, remembering catching a glimpse of Draco's scores.

"Professor Slughorn doesn't associate with death eaters," Hermione said firmly.

"Draco wasn't a death eater by choice, Hermione. And from what I've observed he's actually third in the class after you and me."

"Really?" Hermione was surprised. Over the last few weeks Malfoy hadn't said a single word to her and barely spoke to Blaise at meals. She would often catch him staring blankly out the window in class and not even taking notes.

"Draco has always been like that. He may not seem like he's paying attention but he normally does all the reading before class. I see in the library every time I go."

"So have I now that I think about it." Hermione spread out on her couch, draping her legs over the arm rest and looked at Blaise. "Why do you still hang around Malfoy anyway? I thought you didn't like him."

"He's my house mate. And if you haven't noticed none of my other house mates seem very fond of me so far," Blaise said with a frown.

"I know the feeling. Everyone in Gryffindor thinks they're too good to talk to me…maybe they're right," she chuckled sadly. "So much for Gryffindor loyalty."

Blaise lowered his eyes and didn't say anything for a few minutes. Perhaps she had steered the conversation wrong. This was the most they had talked to each other in a while. Maybe he was growing tired of her as well just like everyone else.

Suddenly Hermione felt depressed. She had been hoping that Blaise would say something that would counter her last two statements, anything to prove that there wasn't anything wrong with her. She wanted someone to tell her why she wasn't good enough for Gryffindor anymore.

All of the little insecurities that she had carried with her since their first conversation on the train came rushing back to her in giant waves.

"Well, I really should get some rest. Goodnight," she said quickly and practically ran back to her room.


Blaise sat in the common room wrapped up in his own thoughts. His admission of no one in his house liking him had brought back all the feelings he had been keeping bottled up back into the forefront of his mind.

It wasn't as if he needed to be liked by other people in Slytherin. But he had always been accepted at least. Even Draco barely talked to him.

He probably should have responded when Hermione had commented that no one liked her. Realizing that now, he knew he made a mistake by being silent. He had simply been distracted at the moment by what he had said earlier.

He knocked on her door lightly.

"Hermione? Are you awake?"

"What is it?" She called from the other side of the door.

"I need to talk to you. I think you misunderstood my silence earlier."

"I don't feel like talking anymore."

"Please," he begged. He wasn't about to lose the one person he had that seemed to care about him in the slightest.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door swung open. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, knees to her chest and had used wandless magic to open the door.

He walked into her room slowly and sat next to her. "It's the other way around you know."

"What is?" She asked.

"You said they think they're too good to talk to you. You're too good to talk to them. And honestly, why bother wasting time on people who have known you for years and suddenly cast you out for no reason?"

"You think I'm better than them?"

"It's not about being better. It's about kindness." She gave this a moment of thought.

"You're right. I'm being silly," she conceded, chuckling at her own dramatics. "It's just…ever since I got back here I've felt left out. You're the only person who talks to me. Neville and Luna were once my close friends, and now they only talk to each other."

"They talked to you yesterday at breakfast. You sit with them at most meals," Blaise pointed out.

"They do it to be polite."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I know them," she insisted. Blaise didn't offer anything so they sat in silence for a few moments.

"I never wanted to be in Slytherin," Blaise said out of nowhere. Hermione turned to look at him, silently urging him to continue. "I really wanted to be in Ravenclaw. But my mother was in Slytherin, so I asked the hat to put me there to make her happy."

"I think I would have liked being in Ravenclaw as well," she confessed. "Being around people who actually value studying and education would be a nice change."

"Well," he said, smiling at her. "You have me."

Hermione chuckled but smiled back at him. "Yes, the unconventional Slytherin."

The two of them both laughed lightly, feeling as if another weight had been lifted off their shoulders.


Draco was flying in circles around the empty quidditch pitch at night. He hadn't bothered to sign up for the Slytherin team, but riding a broom again felt nice. It made him feel something which he desperately craved ever since the Dark Lord had taken over his home the previous year: control. He closed his eyes as a cool breeze blew past, ruffling his platinum blond hair.

"Malfoy." Draco slowly opened his eyes and looked down to see Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson standing below him. He flew down but didn't get off his broom and eyed them suspiciously.

"What?"

"Didn't think you'd show you face at Hogwarts again after what happened. You know, with your family running like cowards from Voldemort," Theo sneered.

"What do you want, Nott?" Draco asked coldly. Something about this situation seemed off to him.

"Come now, Draco. Play nice," Pansy crooned sweetly. He cringed at her squeaky voice, remembering all the times she had tried to seduce him over the years.

"It's not about what we want. It's about what our fathers want. You see, I had a visit with my father at Azkaban last week. There are plans, Malfoy. Big plans."

"I don't want to be part of them," Draco said firmly. "Go bother someone else with your conspiracies."

Theodore narrowed his eyes into slits that almost rivaled Voldemort's before taking a breath. "You don't have a choice," he hissed. Pansy cast a silencing charm around them and for a moment Draco thought they might kill him. Instead, Pansy put her hand on Theodore's shoulder holding him back slightly.

"Your father and Theo's are planning on escaping and they need our help." Pansy looked rather smug as she stared at Draco expectantly. He blinked at her.

"I have no interest in breaking your father out of jail. And even if they did get out, where are they going to go?"

"All in due time, Malfoy. For now, their instructions are for us to gather the necessary ingredients for a powerful potion that will aid them in their escape. Most of the ingredients can be found around Hogwarts," Theo replied evenly.

"What if I refuse?"

Now Theodore grinned and pulled out his wand and a small mirror. He muttered an incantation and showed it to Draco. To his horror, he saw his mother chained against a wall in a dark room.

"I trust we have your cooperation?"

Gritting his teeth, Draco nodded. "Don't harm her," he pleaded.

"That's entirely up to you, Malfoy."

"What does this potion do if I may ask?"

"It's incredibly hard to brew, but with access to the potions room and the right timing, the potion will repel dementors by making whoever drinks it completely undetectable to them."

Draco frowned. He had never heard of such a potion. "But dementors can be repelled with a patronus."

"If you want to alert the other dementors and the guards to your presence then by all means go ahead and try it. Don't be daft. This potion's effects last far longer than a patronus charm and will make them not want to be near you, not run form you screaming. This is going to be a stealth mission."

Draco's mind was racing. It was like his task during 6th year all over again.

"You need some time to process all of this," Pansy said. "Let's go." She grabbed hold of Theo's arm and the two apparated away, leaving Draco alone once more.

I never have a choice, Draco thought bitterly