Note:Thanks for everyone's reviews so far! Here's chapter one. Things are starting to get … interesting… for Hermione (As if she didn't have enough to deal with already!). The same warnings/disclaimers from last time still hold. Oh, and in case you were wondering, this is the length I plan to shoot for for regular chapters. Onwards!

1. The Gambit

Hermione's hopes of having a normal sixth year, such as they were, were shattered before classes had even begun. It all started innocently enough – it was the first morning of the fall term and Hermione, Harry, and Ron were eating breakfast together at the Gryffindor table. More precisely, Harry and Ron were eating breakfast, and Hermione was nibbling on a piece of toast while scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment, scowling, erasing what she had written, and repeating the process.

Harry took a break from demolishing the pile of scrambled eggs on his plate and leaned over to look over Hermione's shoulder.

"Hermione, what are you working on? Classes haven't even started yet; you can't possibly have homework."

Hermione crossed out something on her parchment, and looked up. "No, of course it's not homework, Harry, don't be ridiculous. I'm working out tentative schedules for all three of us, based on OWL results and planned career paths. With the new staffing shift – Professor Slughorn might have different standards for his NEWT potions class, but we can't be sure – It changes everything I had written down already…"

Harry sat back and rolled his eyes. "I don't even see why you're bothering to do that now; Professor McGonagall is probably going to give us our real schedules in a few minutes anyway…."

"I wanted to get a head start on working out a study schedule for the three of us, and I obviously need to know what times we all have free –" she started.

Ron emerged from his own heaping plate of breakfast at this point, shaking his head vigorously at Harry, and (managing not to fling any significant amount of food off his fork in the process) mimed something to the effect of, "just ignore her when she gets like this; it's better for everyone."

Harry shrugged and they went back to their respective breakfasts, leaving Hermione to work on her schedules in peace.

This peace was, however, a relative thing; being the first day of the term, the Great Hall echoed with the buzz of conversation from all four house tables, as friends caught up after a summer apart and gossiped about the latest revelation about Harry Potter in the Daily Prophet. The Slytherins, in particular, seemed to be engaged in this latter activity, if the copies of the Prophet bearing the headline "Boy Who Lived – Chosen One, Or Clever Hoax?"being passed up and down along the table was any indication.

Hermione was buttering a third piece of toast when the food vanished from the table and Professor McGonagall started to work her way down the table, distributing schedules. Hermione, Ron, and Harry had seated themselves near the top of the table, so they were among the first for McGonagall to go to. Hermione munched on the toast as she waited her turn. She was planning on going on with all of her subjects except Care of Magical Creatures – she wanted to keep her options open, but even so, there was little point in taking that one to N.E.W.T. level.

Beside her, Harry's and Ron's conversation was getting louder and more articulate, since it was no longer impeded by large masses of partially chewed food filling their mouths. She caught the word "Slytherin," and surmised that Harry was probably having another go at convincing Ron that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater assigned to complete some evil task while at Hogwarts. He had shared this theory with both of them last night after the feast, and Hermione had found it less than convincing. She supposed that he would try again to convince her next; he probably thought that his task would be easier if he could work on them both separately.

And then it was Hermione's turn; she tucked away Harry's problem in the corner of her mind marked To Deal With Later, and set her mind fully on the important task of picking classes.

"Good morning, Miss Granger. Now let's see here…" said McGonagall, pushing her spectacles up her nose. She inspected the long roll of parchment that Hermione assumed held all the students' information. "Ten 'Outstandings,' and one 'Exceeds Expectations'; well done." Hermione beamed. "I assume you wish to continue with all of your subjects?" she asked, her wand poised over the blank parchment which was to become Hermione's schedule for the term. "You understand that this will leave you with no free periods?"

"Actually, I was planning on giving up Care of Magical Creatures, Professor," Hermione interjected.

"A wise decision on the whole; more study time can never go amiss. Unless you were planning to pursue private lessons?"

"No, I'm sticking to the regular classes, for right now at least. Like you said, more study time…"

Professor McGonagall allowed a slight smile to play about her lips, and tapped Hermione's parchment. "There you go. I trust you will come to me if you have any issues with your course load or class selection at any point in the year?"

"Of course, Professor. Thank you!" Hermione flashed a smile and walked off toward Ron and Harry, (who had kindly stopped to wait for her) as she inspected her new schedule. She unconsciously filed away the professor's offer in the box in her mind labeled To Be Considered Should the Situation Arise. She smiled at Ron and Harry when she got over to them (they had resumed their discussion from earlier, and only nodded back), and moved off toward the entrance with them, still inspecting her schedule.

It wasn't much different from what she had predicted, which was good; she wouldn't have to change her earlier plans much. The biggest unknown of course was still Ron's and Harry's schedules; she would have to talk with them about it at lunch. She was pleased with her own schedule; it was reasonably well-balanced, and she had a free period tomorrow – good, because by then she would plenty of homework to fill it with.

The schedule indicated that right now she had Transfigurations – excellent; she had be particularly looking forward to that one since she had finished reading the Advanced Transfigurations textbook over the summer – and after that there was Advanced Potions with Professor Slughorn; she was curious to see what his class would be like…

She was interrupted from her contemplations by Ron and Harry, whose discussion was now being carried out in increasingly loud voices. Hermione looked up from her schedule with a long-suffering look and the intention to ask them to quiet down, just in time to hear Ron mention her name.

"Yeah, me too, but I bet Hermione wouldn't think – Oi, Hermione!" Both boys stopped walking and swiveled around to face her, expectantly. Hermione stopped too, so as not to run into them, and noted that they had come to a halt alongside the Slytherin table, where most of the upper-year students were still sitting, waiting for Professor Snape to come around and hand out schedules. Hermione cocked her head to the side and listened as Ron continued. "You remember Dumbledore's speech last night?"

"Yes," said Hermione, wondering where this was going. Of course she remembered the speech. It had been about what dangerous times these were – as if everyone didn't know that already – and how, in times like these, those who did not stand together would be the first to fall. He had worked it around nicely from there to the topic of inter-house unity, and had exhorted all students to maintain their ties to members of other houses, or forge new ones, so that Hogwarts would continue to stand proud in these dark times, as she had for millennia past – and then he went on to list places that were off limits to students, and the importance of listening to the prefects…

"So," said Ron, "We were thinking about this whole inter-house unity tripe he was spouting, and I think he must have gone around the bend –"

"His intentions were good, though! In a war, you can't take any chances -" Harry interjected here, but Ron took this in stride, as though he had not been interrupted.

"Sure, he might have the best intentions under the sun, but if he honestly think that we're going to 'strengthen our bonds to members of other houses' or whatever, then he's just not thinking straight – I mean, maybe it would work if we were all Hufflepuffs, but if you have any grip on reality, you should know that's the last thing that's going to happen in this school – I don't eventalk to any Slytherins, for one; don't know any Gryffindor who does…"

A few nearby Slytherins craned around in their seats and started to listen, smirking, as though possessed of an extra sense that let them know when a Gryffindor was about to make a fool of himself in their vicinity.

Hermione bristled. Of course the Headmaster's speech had been well-intentioned, but it would be just so many puffs of air if the students didn't take it seriously. "Ron, just because you don't talk to any Slytherins doesn't make it a good idea not to – what about the part where he said about forging new ties, then?" She tapped her foot impatiently on the floor. Ron was being stupid again, and it was going to make her late to class.

Seeing that she was unconvinced, Ron changed tactics. "Well, would you want to be friends with a Slytherin, Hermione?" He crossed his arms across his chest and relaxed, as though confident of her answer already.

"Of course I would; we're not all bigots like you, Ronald." Didn't he notice that they had an audience? Of course, that had never stopped him from saying whatever popped into his mind in the past. And she was really going to be late for class if she didn't get going now.

Ron looked momentarily stymied, but then his eyes lit up and he played his trump card. "Well, would you date a Slytherin?" He and Harry shared a smug look that spoke volumes about how sure they were that even Hermione's foolishly high level of tolerance wouldn't allow her to contemplate this abhorrent act.

"In the spirit of inter-house unity? Yes, I would date a Slytherin," proclaimed Hermione boldly. She was perversely gratified by the identical expressions of shock that spread across the boys' faces, and even more so when Ron started to splutter incoherently.

Though now that she succeeded in claiming the moral high ground for the day, she really, really needed to get to class.

Pansy Parkinson, who had been unabashedly observing the whole argument, stood up from her spot at the Slytherin table and stepped out in front of Hermione. "Would you go out with me, Granger?"

It took a moment for the meaning of the words to filter through, but when they did, they were met with a crystal clear rationality. Pansy Parkinson just asked me out on a date – shit. How did that happen? And all the Slytherins just heard our whole argument; I supposed I can't help but say yes, then. Things like Hermione's longstanding dislike of the Slytherin girl or the questionable nature of Pansy's motives didn't really factor into the decision, at this point. It was a matter of standing up for what she believed in, or looking the utter hypocrite. And becoming a laughingstock in the school, for that matter.

Hermione looked Pansy up and down, stalling for time. The Slytherin girl submitted to her gaze, as though she had only been expecting it. Hermione had only noticed her before as a girl her own age, with a slight pug nose and dark hair cut in a bob, wearing Slytherin robes. That was all she had needed to see, really.

Now that she was really looking, though, she noticed the other things. Pansy stood exactly the same height as Hermione, her body looking surprisingly skinny through her school robes. She wore little jewelry – the only piece that Hermione saw was a ring that glittered dully on her left hand – and her face was free of the small glamours that most girls their age used in place of makeup. At this point, Hermione noticed that the other girl wore a smug, appraising look on her face, as though she were sizing up Hermione in exactly the same way, and Hermione blushed and dropped her eyes.

"I –" she faltered. She saw out of the corner of her eye that the other Slytherins were watching the tableau in front of them with rapt attention, and she realized that she really was cornered, here.

She put on a smile that she hoped didn't look too brave. "Of course, Parkinson, why not? I would be delighted." She winced, inwardly, at the words – the last thing she felt at the prospect was delight; duty was far more accurate. Or dread, if she was being honest.

Pansy's eyes lit up, and Hermione could hear an ungraceful choking sound coming from Ron's direction. The students at the Slytherin table smirked at each other and started to murmur under their breaths, and Hermione bit back her exasperation. Why did everyone have to be so surprised when she did something like this? Was it such an uncommon thing to see someone who wouldn't back down from her principles at the first challenge?

"Hogsmeade alright?" Pansy asked, conversationally, crossing her arms over her chest. She wasn't exactly smiling, or even smirking, like the rest of her house, but a light still danced in her eyes in a way that made Hermione vaguely uneasy.

"Yeah, sure," said Hermione, trying to regain her composure. "That would be lovely. Catch you later…" she gave a smile that was far more confident than she was feeling, and ducked away, mumbling some excuse about getting to class. Harry and Ron came to themselves a moment later, and jogged a few steps to follow her out of the Hall.

As soon as they had gotten past the entrance hall, they started in on her.

"Hermione, look, you know you can't seriously be thinking about going out with a Slytherin – we were just joking, weren't we, Ron?"

Hermione glared at Harry, who was walking on her left. Ron nodded vigorously as he come up to walk on her other side, so the two of them were flanking her. She wondered if they had planned it that way in advance or whether it had just happened.

"And why can't I? Someone has to stand up for their principles around here!"

Harry looked at her as if she had just asked him to please explain why one plus one made two. "Because, there's a war on! Malfoy is probably a Death Eater, and you know how tight he is with Parkinson. They could be planning to pry information on the Order out of you, for all we know! You can't trust a Slytherin as far as you can throw him even in normal times, and now?" He threw up his hands, exasperated.

Ron stepped smoothly into Harry's pause, not giving Hermione the chance to speak. "And Hermione, did you not notice that she's a girl?

"Of course I did; I don't see how that subtle fact could have escaped my notice." Hermione found herself growing increasingly irritable.

"But –"

"I don't see how it's your place to say who I get to date, Ron."

Ron turned red and opened his mouth to say something, but Harry cut in, coming to his aid.

"That's not the only reason, Hermione – Sure, you can choose who you want to date, but Pansy? It's dangerous; who knows what her motives were for asking you were – at the very best, she's probably planning on humiliating you in front of the whole school; and honestly, you don't even like her."

Hermione was afraid that she was going red in the face herself. Why couldn't they just be reasonable for once? "That hardly matters at this point; this is bigger than just Pansy and me. And I think the least we can do is to trust her until she proves untrustworthy, don't you? Aren't we Gryffindors supposed to care about doing the right thing?"

Hermione found that her voice had become increasingly loud and impassioned. She took several deep breaths and said, in a more normal voice, "Come on, we'll be late for class."

They were very nearly late for Transfigurations, even though they walked fast. They sat together, as usual, but a glowering silence had descended on the trio, and Hermione studiously avoided eye contact with either Ron or Harry. The temptation to glare was too great, and she didn't want the term to get off to a worse start than it already had.

Perhaps, if her choice hadn't been attacked right from the start, it would have been different. She really didn't like Pansy at all, and was already dreading their "date." What she really would have appreciated at this point was sympathetic friends, but what she got was adversarial ones. Forced to defend her choice against them, any doubt in her mind of whether this was really the right thing to do had been firmly crushed.

And if she didn't like the idea of a date with Pansy – well when the time came, she would live through it, for the sake of the example she would be setting for the rest of the school. One date – an hour or two alone with Pansy, at most – it couldn't be that bad, could it? Hermione knew that she was rationalizing, but there was nothing better to do in this situation. The best she could do was distract herself by taking notes, and try not to dwell on the fact that her next class was Potions, with the Slytherins.

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