I am terribly sorry for taking this long to update, I was inexplicably tired for some days before being dragged across town for birthdays, outings and other stuff I did not ask for. Once again, my apologies, I hope the chapter lives up to your expectations. Also, please PM any questions you might have.

And, most importantly, a huge thanks for all the support I have recieved! Labyrinth has over 100 follows, much more than I expected, so thank you!

Labyrinth

The mind of a prodigy is a scary thing. Hermione Granger's however is downright terrifying.
AU. Slytherin!Hermione, Slytherin!Harry

Chapter Three

Difference

Hermione wondered why she and Harry actually bothered showing up for breakfast. If it wasn't for the prefect telling them, rather haughtily, that Slytherins attended all meals as a group they would have had more time exploring the library.

She barely noticed the sneer on the prefect's face as he handed her a timetable which she immediately studied and noticed that their first class would be Potions followed by Defence Against the Dark Arts. She doubted there'd be a chance to slip into the library between the two classes and sighed resignedly.

"We'll go after Defence Against the Dark Arts," Harry said as he too stared at his timetable with a frown, "do you think the professors believe that stuff about me being some kind of hero?"

"Harry," Hermione sighed, "I think that if the redhead was anything to go by then everyone has a shrine dedicated to you in their bedroom. And if first appearances are to be believed I think some of the professors here will be similar, honestly, I am not terribly impressed. Our head of house seems intelligent enough, as did the woman at the sorting, but apart from that we'll just have to wait and see."

"Not every adult is an incompetent idiot," Harry remarked blankly before taking another bite of his toast.

"Just the ones we've met then," Hermione said primly as she shoved her now empty plate of breakfast away from her. She noticed some of their fellow first years given them subtle glances, no doubt listening to the conversation and Hermione rose her eyebrows at Pansy Parkinson. Hermione was remarkably pleased when the girl paled and quickly looked away, whispering something to the blond boy next to her in hushed tones.

It seemed her little show worked just as well as when she used it on Petunia Dursley, though the older woman's reaction had been a lot more entertaining when Hermione had shattered all her beloved tableware and icily mentioned that Harry might like a new bedroom.

oOoOoOo

Hermione leant back against the cold, stone walls of the hallway in the dungeons where they were supposed to wait for their teacher to appear. She rather liked the setting, it felt as if there were ancient secrets hidden in the very stones she was leaning against that would always remain out of your grasp no matter how hard you searched for them. This very hallway, she decided, was how the whole of Hogwarts should have been. Less cliché and more powerful, ancient and magical.

"Potter, I mean- err, Harry," a redhead wearing the Gryffindor insignia on his chest said awkwardly as he approached them hurriedly, ignoring the looks the Slytherins were giving him.

Harry looked up, slightly surprised, and frowned once he remembered the boy's face. It was the redhead, the groupie.

"Yes," Harry said aloofly, shooting a look at Hermione who nodded subtly.

"Did you- I mean, is," the boy gushed, his freckled face reddening up to his ears, "didyoubringPortiawithyou?"

Harry's frown deepened into a glare, "repeat that question slowly, please."

"Did you," the redhead breathed, "bring Portia with you?"

Harry was about to reply when Hermione stepped in, "he did bring her on the train, to say goodbye, but Portia doesn't handle crowds that well so she is back at the castle now."

"Oh," the redhead said slowly, "well, okay then. I'm Ron, Ron Weasley, by the way." With that said he left to his housemates who immediately started questioning him until a blonde girl loudly exclaimed: "I told you so! Portia so isn't here, you owe me a knut, Parvati!"

Harry frowned at Hermione, "why did you do that, you're encouraging them?"

"Yes, Granger," Draco sneered as he stepped towards the two, "why let the idiots believe the fabrications of some utter idiotic blood traitor?"

"So you do know that those stories are false?" Hermione said, slightly surprised.

"Of course we do," Daphne Greengrass said softly as she joined the conversation, her eyes regarding Hermione coldly, "we are above such plebeian tales and we all know never to trust the writer, he has a reputation for writing … peculiar articles."

Hermione hmm-ed thoughtfully and didn't answer until Draco and Daphne were out of earshot again.

"Well," Harry said, "why did you do it?"

"It's better to let them believe such outlandish rumours so they'll remember it when you do something different," Hermione whispered with a too-wide grin and shiny brown eyes, "because impressions stick better when they're truly unexpected. That, and it's better for your enemies to believe they know everything about you."

"I doubt they'd be worthy enemies," Harry commented dryly as he inclined his head towards Ron the redhead and his cohorts.

"I know," Hermione sighed sadly, "but the point remains."

oOoOoOo

"I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death," Severus Snape said as he regarded the students sitting in front of him with a chilly glare, "yet I hope your incompetence won't be the death of your fellow students. The art of potions is a delicate one, a single misplaced ingredient can cause an unbalance with deadly results. And I most certainly won't be the one to scrape your bloody remains from the ceiling. There won't be any silly wand waving in this classroom, so put them away."

A few students had grown pale as Severus shot his glare at them before they hurriedly shoved their wands in their bags.

"Longbottom!" he suddenly barked as he faced the slightly trembling pudgy boy, "tell me what will I get if I add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

The boy stammered a soft "I-I don't k-know, s-s-sir," as he looked down.

Severus sneered at the boy, causing him to fold into himself even more before he turned to another Gryffindor. "You, Weasley, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Ron looked rather pale as the potions master addressed him and seemed to think for a while before answering, "I dunno."

"Five points from Gryffindor for failure of producing a proper English sentence," Severus hissed as his black eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Potter!" Severus suddenly said as he turned to Harry in a whirl of black robes, his eyes narrowed to mere slits as he seemed to restrain himself from saying anything else by gritting his teeth. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry stared at the potions master with a tiny smirk as he sat a little bit straighter in his chair before answering, "their names, professor, for they are the same plant."

"Very good Potter," Severus forced himself to say, schooling his features to mask his annoyance, "five points to Slytherin for being capable of opening a book and processing the information better than a Gryffindor. Now, who is capable of answering the previous questions?"

Hermione contemplated whether or not to raise her hand but decided to do it anyway, knowledge was bound to help her gain her housemates' trust far easier than appearing as dumb and uneducated as they thought her to be.

"Yes, miss Granger," Severus drawled as he addressed the bushy haired girl.

"Depending on the amount of powdered root you could either get a potion that induces mild sleepiness or with a heavier dose the result would be the Draught of the Living Death. A bezoar is undigested food and accidentally eaten hair left in a goat's stomach which takes on a grey colour and over time hardens until it resembles a stone, hence why people often think it is a stone."

"Very good, miss Granger, another five points to Slytherin," Severus commented with a slight inclination of his head to the girl in question before he turned to the Gryffindor side of the classroom, "why are you not writing this down?"

The sound if quills writing on parchment was all that was heard for a few moments as people hurried to write it all down. Hermione however was talking to Harry in hushed tones as she glanced at the potions professor occasionally.

Severus Snape was giving Harry a glare when he thought no one was looking, and Hermione did not like it one bit.

oOoOoOo

"D-d-def-f-f-ence a-g-g-gainst t-t-the d-d-dark a-arts is an imp-p-port-tant c-core s-s-subject bec-cause," professor Quirrel stuttered as he made awkward hand motions, his face sweaty and his overall appearance rather pitiful in Hermione's opinion.

"I heard he got traumatized after a vampire nearly drained him," Theodore Nott said blankly as his pale blue eyes stared vacantly ahead at the professor while his left hand was writing on his parchment in a neat, tiny script, "though my own opinion is that he was born pathetic."

Hermione regarded the brunette sitting on the table next to them, noting the sneer his partner, Draco Malfoy, shot them and giving him one of her own in return before focussing on Theodore. "I think I agree, though the vampire explains the smell of garlic."

"It does," Theodore stated as his eyes rested on Hermione's face for a brief moment before watching the professor once again. "The Notts have based their opinion on potential for centuries now," his voice remained even as he said this and his gaze remained aimed elsewhere.

"Err, thank you?" Hermione answered, not sure how to respond to the rather odd, apathetic boy's words.

"You are welcome," Theodore responded in his peculiarly even voice as he nodded in her direction, his eyes never leaving the professor while his hand kept on writing.

Hermione shrugged when she saw the questioning glance Harry sent her way when the conversation was over but for the remainder of the lesson her mind was elsewhere. Potential for what? The question echoed through her mind yet any answer she came up with felt inadequate, not quite right or downright wrong. It bothered her, not knowing the answer, and the urge to visit the library after the stuttering man's class intensified.

oOoOoOo

Hermione took out the parchment and quill as Harry sat down next to her. The library was rather empty, the only other occupants were a few Ravenclaws that shot them curious glances, or admiring ones at Harry, but refrained from approaching them. Their lunch was eaten in relative silence as their year mates were whispering amongst themselves and occasionally asking Theodore some questions. Their glares, sneers and occasional snipe didn't stop however but it seemed as if Theodore's comment meant something. It probably did, and Hermione was once again bothered by not knowing what it meant.

"I want to know Theodore Nott meant," Hermione said after a while as she wrote the words down on the parchment.

Harry looked pensive for a moment before saying, "why did professor Snape treat me differently than other Slytherins?"

Hermione nodded absentmindedly as she wrote his words down below hers, "why did the headmaster look angry at the sorting feast?"

"He did?"

Hermione nodded as Harry frowned, "right after you were sorted, it was gone after a second but it was there."

Harry's frown deepened and he was silent for a moment before adding another question, "why does everyone need a wand?"

"What is dark magic," Hermione said, quill flying over the parchment as she wrote everything down quickly, "and why is it classified as dark?"

"Why would a school have a room where students die a 'very painful death'?"

"How were you capable of supposedly surviving a spell that has never failed before, cast by a psychotic madman that was very proficient with it and no one questions your supposed 'vanquishing' of said madman at the mere age of one?"

They continued like that for some time, the list growing longer and longer as they kept adding questions until the parchment was filled with Hermione's slanted script.

"I think that's it," Harry said softly as he watched parchment.

Hermione nodded silently as she looked around her, once she was satisfied that there were no onlookers she picked up the parchment with her left hand and narrowed her eyes. Slowly, very slowly, did the parchment start smouldering as if someone had thrown it in a fireplace. After a while tiny pieces of blackened parchment and ash fell to the floor as Hermione watched it coolly.

oOoOoOo

"And, Severus?" Albus asked tiredly, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

"From what I've seen the boy has the same blasted arrogance as his father," Severus said heatedly as he stood rigidly in front of the headmaster's desk.

"But," Albus interjected, "is he dark?"

"With all due respect, sir, it is too early to say so. I have seen him for just an hour and he does not reek of it like the Dark Lord does so I will need much more time to figure that out," the potions master said coolly.

"Good, good," Albus murmured, "now about the girl? Miss Granger? How is she?"

"From what I've seen, she is fine. Still breathing, no missing limbs nor crying overly much," Severus drawled, "she seems to show a good grasp of the theory from what I've seen today and if necessary I will introduce her to some books that might help .. keep herself alive."

"Make sure she does not go dark as well, Severus," the headmaster sighed, "or die. But Harry is your priority, we need him for the war."

Severus nodded curtly before walking out of the office briskly, his black robes once again billowing behind him as the door closed with a bang, causing Albus to wince at the sound.

Thank you for reading.