Vomit was a terrible, terrible thing. Despite the horrors they had faced so far, at least no one had puked in class before. From the second he had walked into the room, she had known he was going to be trouble. It was just that kind of look. Hermione huffed at not knowing the proper word for it. Belligerent, devil-may-care, over-confident, class-clown all rolled into one. Someone like Fred and George with Malfoy's arrogance and Ron's idiocy.

Hermione couldn't resist grimacing as she banished the bowl along with its contents and turned away to ready herself for class. Professor McGonagall was already speaking to the class about the next spell set they would learning. Panic ignited in Hermione's spine as she hurried to pull out her things. How could two brothers distract her so much? Ron had five. And all-together they were much weirder than these two.

She cast an eye over to them as she pulled out her notes to make sure that she wouldn't have to banish anymore vomit.

First, she had her notes that she took to recite all she had known about the lesson before the reading and lesson. Next, she had her notes she took while reading the chapter assigned which she revised and copied for clarity. Finally, she had her current notes which she took right before class to make sure she had retained the information.

Pulling out her quill, she began to catch up to Professor McGonagall, after briefly noting what she had missed. Really, nothing should distract her from her studies. A soft noise to her left drew Hermione's attention. Amidst a few quill scratches (her, along with a few diligent Hufflepuffs and Ron scribbling at a dragon with McGonagall's head to Harry Potter's amusement), there was one softer scratch that didn't sound right at all. That wasn't a quill, it was a…

"Pen," Hermione whispered in surprise. Professor McGonagall glanced at her and Hermione had the decency to blush and look down until she felt the burning stare leave her hair. Then she looked back up and over to where Sam Winchester was writing with a pen. She hadn't seen one of those in months – she missed home. Her hand reached out to take it before faltering her. How rude.

The noise and movement made Sam look up. "Hm?" he said, looking at her with a slight questioning tilt of his head. Hermione swallowed and began to gape as she realized what this meant. He was taking notes. There was a lot already so… She found herself pointing, words lost.

Sam looked down and chuckled. "Yeah, um, I borrowed your book from Mrs. Pince and did some light reading before the class."

"And," Hermione urged and reached out to tap his notebook (she hadn't seen one of those in ages, either). Words were still somehow getting garbled on their way up through her throat.

Sam bit his lip and glanced at his brother before looking at her with an odd, embarrassed gleam to his eye. "Well. What's the point of reading if you're not going to write it down to make sure you have learned something?"

A downright gasp escaped Hermione's lips at that.

She could feel the Professor before she heard her. "Mrs. Granger, is there something you would like to share with the class?" Somehow, Professor McGonagall was right next to their desks within seconds, cutting words running right into Hermione's ears, turning them bright red.

"I…no, I, professor." Hermione nodded and closed her hands as though she had formed a proper sentence. Hands sweaty, all she could do is dig her nails into her hands and try not to cry. She knew she had to be careful. She was being tested and at any turn she could be deemed a squib and kicked out of Hogwarts. They were talked all about in "Squibs: A Sad Spell-less State". "I…" Hermione tried again, to no avail.

"She was just helping me understand a concept, Professor McGonagall." Hermione turned to stare at Sam. "I'm afraid this is all so new. I couldn't help but ask what you meant exactly by conjuration." There was something about the drawn together eye-brows and almost puppy-dog expression that made Hermione want to believe him which made Professor McGonagall's reply almost understandable.

"Very well, if you were to ask anyone, Miss Granger would be the best source o accurate and extensive information." Hermione had to fluster at that comment. "However, take care not to interrupt my class with questions better left to after class discussion."

Sam nodded and murmured, "Of course." He was lying, though. Hermione knew it. He had read the chapter. He had read the bloody chapter and taken notes. Was that color coding, he had? Hermione felt faint. And since when did she use language like Ron?

Something about Sam's gaze at her broke her concentration.

"Are you alright?"

Before she could answer, she heard a scratchy, deep voice behind him. "Freakin' nerds."

She swallowed and continued on with minimal stammering. "I'm fine, Sam." Hermione wanted to look around him and glare at Dean Winchester but Sam was mostly blocking her view of the annoying, foul-mouthed, arrogant, self-centered man-child. After that, she looked away. Terrible though he was, she never dealt well with conflict and preferred to avoid it.

A small grunt sounded behind her and she whipped around. What happened to Sam? Then she saw Dean rubbing his side and Sam looking smug. Ah, so that was how he dealt with bullies.

Hermione grabbed her wand at sent a small stinging hex to Dean Winchester's leg.

"What the fu-"

"Mr. Winchester!" McGonagall cut him off.

Hermione smiled and finally turned back to the clock, realizing class was almost over and she had only managed to write a bare outline of what she had remembered. Yes, now she remembered how she had gotten so distracted and it wasn't entirely terrible. That had felt good.

She could just read more later or ask Sam.