NOTE: I do not own anything – it's all Rowling epic-ness.

-O-O-O-O-

Hermione huffed in frustration as she glared down at her two best friends who were currently lingering over their kippers and toast. "Come on," she exclaimed, "If we don't hurry, we'll be late for class. And Professor Kemp said this class was going to be tough!"

"Hermione, calm down! Harry and I are just finishing breakfast, which, might I remind you, is the most important meal of the day. If you want to go on, go ahead."

"Fine, Ronald. But remember that this is what happens when you stay up until Merlin knows when talking about chess and Quidditch." She grabbed her bag and marched off. She herself had stayed up rather late the night before, but she had been putting her time to good use. It was now a month and a half into the school year, and Hermione was in full-fledged study mode. She has spent the night finishing a Transfiguration essay and agonizing over an assignment she had handed into Slughorn, certain she had messed it up somehow.

Hermione arrived at the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with several minutes to spare, but was unsurprised to see people already there. Kemp's teaching style was much like Lupin's or Mad-Eye Moody's (rather, his imposter's). He did a lot of hands-on teaching, and was open to questions and debates. Several of the girls had been quite disappointed to learn he was engaged, something which amused Hermione to no end.

Padma Patil took the seat next to Hermione. While her Gryffindor twin was somewhat shallow, in Hermione's opinion, Padma was rightfully placed in Ravenclaw. The two got along quite well, and were in all the same classes this year.

"Do you have any idea what we're doing today?" Hermione asked.

"No idea," said Padma, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. "But that last class with all the wards was so interesting!" The two continued talking while Ron and Harry rushed in. Soon after, Professor Kemp walked through the door.

"Well, class, you won't need books today. Just your wands. We'll be going on a little field trip." There was a scuffle as everyone put their books away and stood up. Kemp led them to an unused classroom. In the middle of the room sat a trunk, which would give a good shake every few moments. Realization dawned on Hermione.

"Now, I know you learned how to deal with boggarts your third year." The class nodded. Hermione shot a glance at Malfoy – he, like Padma, was in all of her classes – and saw him visibly pale when he realized what was happening. He still managed to keep his features smooth and expressionless, however. "So, this is part review, because this fella happened to be handy. It's also to help you face your fears. A lot of Dark magic is based on fear and negative emotions. Hopefully this will help strengthen your mind so that you can fight off an Imperio or some other curse." Hermione felt Harry shift next to her.

"Professor, are you sure this is a good idea?" he ventured. "Not to be disrespectful, but I think that after all that's happened, people's fears are a lot more… scary then they were five years ago."

"You make a good point, Mr. Potter. And I did think of it." The professor did not look at all surprised or resentful to have his decision questioned. "However, I believe that it is important to face your fears. This lesson is also an exercise of trust. All of you will go out into the world at the same time. While before you kept to your Houses, those barriers have no place in the real world. I'm not asking you to be friends, or even like each other, but I'm hoping that you will support each other through this. It's going to be hard, but maybe my understanding each other a bit more, you'll realize there isn't that much difference separating you." Ron snorted at the last bit, but the rest of the class was silent. Kemp was a compelling speaker, and his little speech struck close to home for many.

"Well, then," Kemp clapped his hands. "You know the drill. Mr. Weasley, perhaps you could start us off." Ron blanched a little, but positioned himself in front of the trunk all the same. A huge spider leapt out, but Ron braced himself and shouted, "Riddikulus!" A crack, and rollerblades appeared on its feat, and it skittered this way and that. Funny how some things never changed. Neville was next – the boggart transformed, not into Snape, but into a tall, dark heavy-lidded woman. The Bellatrix-boggart snarled and reached for her wand, but not before Neville shouted the spell and Bellatrix shrunk into a tiny, headless grass snake.

Hermione doubted that Neville was the only one whose boggart had changed. She didn't even know what hers would be, though Bellatrix Lestrange was certainly a possibility. She doubted, however, that most of the people in the room would produce a Voldemort-boggart. Very few of them had seen him more than the one time at the Final Battle. It was just her, Ron, Harry… and Malfoy. Despite the fact that he had on his usual expressionless face, there was a hint of panic in his eyes.

Blaise went next. The jack in the box (courtesy of Padma) turned into a Lethifold, slithering along the ground. A crack, and the creature folded neatly onto itself and became a package from Madame Malkins.

A banshee, another spider, and two masked Death Eaters later, Malfoy stepped forward. Hermione saw his face tighten as the boggart transformed, into a dementor. The class froze. The dementor drew back its hood, and the blond boy was left staring at himself in horror. Then, the face in front of them aged, the features changing, until it was Lucius Malfoy who stood there in a dementor's cloak, the familiar sneer across his face. Hermione shuddered, and saw that any color left on Malfoy's face had vanished. She stepped forward.

"Riddikulus!" she shouted. The dementor-Lucius-boggart gave her a look of surprise before turning into a first-year's Herbology assignment. Malfoy whirled and stalked out of the room as quickly as his leg could carry him. Zabini swore while managing to give her a look of thanks and direct a glare at their teacher, and then followed his friend out of the room. Kemp quickly drove the piece of parchment into the trunk and locked it. He looked at the silent class.

"Damn. I'm so sorry class. Harry, I should have listened to you. Umm… Why don't you all leave a little early? Your essays are postponed until next class, so I'd advise you to look them over again." He ran a hand through his hair while the students filed out.

-O-O-O-O-

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat out on the lawn, making good use of their shortened class. They were discussing Malfoy's boggart, trying to figure out what it meant.

"Well, he's obviously afraid of dementors," Ron said.

"Who knew we had something in common?" Harry observed wryly.

"But is he afraid of his father?" Hermione was still trying to analyze it.

"Probably. I mean, who isn't?" Ron scowled. "Why are we worrying about the git again?" It was Harry who answered.

"Because, Ron, that git isn't as much of a git anymore. Dumbledore was always talking about unity. But it seems like for the last seven years, at least, it's been three Houses unified against one. We should give them all a chance." Ron grumbled, but held his peace.

"So," Hermione said, a little too brightly. "How is Quidditch going?" McGonagall had decided it would be unfair to have eighth years on the House teams, but she had allowed eighth years to be coaches, of a sort. So, Ron and Harry spent every few evenings out on the pitch. Hermione knew Terry Boot was helping with the Ravenclaw team, but she didn't know about Slytherin or Hufflepuff.

"It's great!" Ron exclaimed, and started babbling about all the training techniques he had looked up. Harry added a comment here and there.

"You know what would be cool?" Harry interjected a few minutes later. "If us eighth years had a team. We wouldn't do anything official, but we could scrimmage against the House teams and stuff." Hermione smiled as the faraway look entered her best friends' eyes. She tried to encourage them.

"That sounds like fun. I don't think there are that many of us who play Quidditch, but there should be enough."

"Hmm. And Terry Boot and Justin Finch-Fletchy can Chase."

"Wasn't that Zabini kid a Chaser?" Harry mused.

"A Slytherin?" Ron was incredulous. Hermione glared at him.

"Did you learn nothing from class today?"

"Hermione's right, Ron. Just… let it go." Harry had told them of his encounter with Malfoy a few weeks before, so Hermione knew that he at least was tired of all the grudges. "Besides, we should probably ask around, see if people are actually interested before we do anything."

"Yeah, alright. Hey, we should probably head to lunch. It's almost eleven, and we have Charms at noon."

"Oh, I hope you guys don't mind, but Ginny said something about wanting to eat with me," Harry said, a little sheepishly.

"Why would we mind?" Ron asked, bemused. "There's plenty of room for Ginny to sit with us." He missed the glare Hermione shot at him, so she kicked his foot.

"Of course we don't mind Harry," she said firmly, while Ron looked at her in confusion. "Ron and I were thinking of meeting up with Neville–"

"We were?"

"–meeting up with Neville," she overrode him, "so you and Ginny have fun."

Harry gave her a look of gratitude as they reached the Great Hall and Hermione nearly dragged Ron to the opposite end of the table, away from his sister and best friend.

A/N: Another chapter – hope you enjoyed. Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed! I really appreciate it. Anyhoo, in case there was any confusion: Draco is afraid of becoming his father (more on that next chapter – get excited!) If there are more questions about things that are unclear, just let me know and I'll try to sort things out. Thanks again for reading!