For disclaimer please see prologue.

A/N: Once again I would have been lost in the wild and treacherous world of punctuation and wacky grammar if my wonderful Beta-Readers, FlairVerona and Noesnifunifa had not supported me. You're fantastic, ladies :)

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Chapter 03: Sluggish Intervention

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'It is a strange thing,' Hermione Granger mused as she walked through the deserted corridors of Hogwarts castle, 'that the more you dread a thing, the quicker it'll come to pass.'

A whole glorious week had passed since her ill-fated interview with Theodore Nott. It had been a week full of sunshine, bright colours, and of spending time outside with Harry and Ron soaking up the splendourous last days of autumn. Hermione had written a short and basically meaningless essay about her interview with Nott ("He's a seventh year Slytherin who dislikes talking and broccoli."), then went back into a blissful state of denial as more important things of her daily routine took up the young Prefect's attention. Quidditch season was about to start, which had turned Ron into a nervous wreck ("It's five o'clock in the morning! We need to train! The enemy isn't sleeping!"), Ginny had developed a rather surprising interest in Zacharias Smith and Harry – well, Harry Potter was preparing himself for what lay ahead.

Hermione sighed deeply and watched as her breath formed a little cloud of mist in front of her. Just as fate wanted it, the dreaded Saturday morning seemed to mark the end of the beautiful autumn. Instead of a bright clear sunrise, Hogwarts was deeply embedded in thick clouds of mist. The temperature had dropped considerably since last night and Hermione, who had been caught by surprise by the unexpected change, could already feel the tips of her toes grow numb with cold. She despised the cold! And come to think of it, she also despised losing a whole day of revision (N.E.W.T.s were closer than you thought!) because of Nott and his arrogance.

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Taking a shortcut through a tapestry that concealed a hidden door, Hermione arrived at Professor Slughorn's office just on time to witness a rather tousled-looking Theodore Nott making an appearance. She bit back a small smile at the amusing sight of the bleary-eyed Slytherin. Nott obviously wasn't a morning person, and for some reason she had the distinct feeling that Slughorn had taken this into account when he had decided the time for their detention.

Hermione nodded a silent greeting to the young man in question, which was answered politely before being overshadowed by a huge, heart-felt yawn.

"This is too bloody early for me." Nott's voice, sounding even richer and more intense due to his exhaustion, invaded Hermione's thoughts. She closed her eyes and let the warm timbre of his voice wash over her. Granted, she did not like Nott himself (especially considering his parentage!), but he had a voice to kill for. Hermione was female enough to enjoy a good thing when the opportunity arose. Blinking lazily, the brunette watched as Nott ran his hands over his face and groaned.

"Too early, too early, too early…"

She grinned. Apparently, boys will be boys, pure-blooded or not. A very small and rather evil voice in the back of her mind (that sounded a lot like Ginny Weasley) spoke up and suggested various plans that involved Nott reading poetry to her with that sensual voice of his, but a very different noise interrupted that pleasant and dangerous train of thought.

"Ah, good morning, good morning, children." Professor Slughorn, a brilliant example of a morning person, grinned at the pair of them. "I trust you slept well. There's a lot of work ahead."

Ignoring the groan that followed this announcement, the jovial professor turned on his heel, pulled his fur-lined cloak more securely over his shoulders, and waved at the two miserable students. "Come on! Hagrid is already waiting!"

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It turned out that the detention consisted of collecting wooden logs which would be used to build a 'playground' for Hagrid's newest pets, Dugbogs. These creatures looked like chunks of dead wood and preferred hiding among the same when they hunted for their prey – usually small mammals which they attacked with their sharp teeth and finned paws.

So it fell to Hermione and Theo to find a decent amount of dead wood – Good quality mind you! Those Dugbogs are really picky! – and pile it up next to Hagrid's hut. It was straining but monotonous and stupid work and therefore perfect for a detention.

Nott sighed, pushed back the sleeves of his cloak and took out his wand. "All right then. Let's get to work."

"No, Mr. Nott," Slughorn's voice once again crushed Theo's hopes of getting this over with in a quick and preferably clean way. "It wouldn't be much of a detention if there isn't a bit of work involved, would it?"

Theo gave him a blank look. He found that he liked his Head of House less and less and in a corner of his mind resolved to talk to Pansy about some form of retribution. Snape had never dared to -!

"If you would be so kind and hand over your wand, please." Slughorn extended a chubby hand.

"You can't be serious!" Yes, Theodore Nott was aware of the fact that he whined like a petulant child - but Merlin's beard! - this man was not taking his wand from him!

Slughorn gave him an infuriatingly understanding look and took out his own wand. "Accio wands!"

With a swish, both Theo's and Hermione's wands flew out of their hands and into the waiting ones of Professor Slughorn. "You may fetch them at midday when you've completed your task."

Slughorn turned to leave. "Oh, I almost forgot." He dug deep into his pocket and pulled out his wand once more. Theo's muscles tightened instinctively, and the young Slytherin desperately fought his instincts which told him to attack the man with a wand pointed at him and the Granger girl. Nott took a step forward when he suddenly felt a small, cool hand on his arm.

"Don't." Hermione had closed the space between them and – being more than used to keeping temperamental teenage boys under control – quietly restrained Theo. They shared a long look that spoke of a silent debate, and finally Theo nodded. She was right, this time.

Slughorn grinned and turned around. "Have a nice and constructive day!"

Hermione's hand vanished from Theo's arm, and for a short moment, the young man sorely missed her touch. He blinked against the surprising and unwelcome notion and decided to go for anger instead. Anger was safe. "Professor!" Nott bellowed at the retreating figure of Horace Slughorn, "What did you do to us?"

Slughorn stopped – even though the small man was not far away Theo had trouble making out the form of his teacher in the heavy fog. "A Connecting Charm, Mr. Nott! You cannot move more than a few feet away from each other for. We wouldn't want you to leave each other alone now, would we?"

Theo clenched his fists. Damn Slughorn! He was stuck to Granger!

"But…" Hermione asked contemplatively, "But what if one of us has to go to the toilet?"

Theo swore. He was doomed.

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'It's all in the socks,' Pansy Parkinson mused as she nestled a bit deeper into her nest of thick blankets next to one of the enchanted windows of the Slytherin girls' dormitories. She took a sip of her deliciously hot and steaming cocoa and gazed out into the fog. Really, the choice of socks told you a lot about a man. There were fine silk socks just like the ones that Blaise Zabini preferred or playful toe socks like you could see on Vincent Crabbe. There were men who preferred rough woolen socks or men who didn't like socks at all. Personally, Pansy liked her pink plush socks which tickled her toes when she wriggled them. Really, this was the one thing she had always completely and utterly understood about Dumbledore. That man valued his socks.

Pansy cradled the warm cup of cocoa in her freezing hands and sighed. It was just too bad that Dumbledore apparently had not valued Draco Malfoy enough to protect him. She hadn't heard from her boyfriend since the end of the last term, and though it hurt to admit it – Pansy was worried sick. Especially on days like this one, when Theo wasn't around to pull her out of her uncharacteristically gloomy mood and there was nothing there to distract her. That was what she needed. A distraction.

Pansy, feeling very neglected and melodramatic, sighed once more and gazed morosely out of the window. Due to the fact that students who traditionally lived in the dungeons tended to end up depressed after a certain amount of time, some ingenious Headmaster had gotten the glorious idea to add enchanted windows to the dormitories which could be bewitched to show the view from each real window in Hogwarts castle. Pansy, who had always nursed a certain fondness for watching Quidditch, had – per habit – bewitched hers to show the Quidditch pitch. Not that it made much of a difference since the mist obscured even the dark goalposts. Wherever she looked there was white. White clouds of mist, greyish-white fog rising up from the frozen ground, a red dot on his way to the pitch…A red dot?

Pansy sat up with renewed determination and narrowed her eyes. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Who would be stupid enough to be out in this kind of weather?

A sly grin made its way onto her face as she threw the blankets aside and reached for a thick pullover. Pansy Parkinson had just found herself a distraction.

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By midday, Theodore Nott was thoroughly annoyed. After a quick start, the search for 'quality wood' had proven to be far more difficult than expected. All they had found were dry and withered-looking branches lying near Hagrid's hut. To make things even more complicated, the fog hadn't retreated in the least. Thick clouds of cold mist obscured the view, and miniscule droplets of dew somehow found their way under the students' clothes, soaking them to the bone.

Theo barely suppressed a grunt as he added a few more branches to his pitiful pile of wood. He knew full well that Hagrid would object to them but chose to ignore that particular fact.

"You can't add those." The bossy voice of Hermione Granger broke through the eerie silence that could only exist in the presence of thick fog. Feeling reckless, Theo raised an eyebrow (though Granger couldn't see that under the bangs that were hanging damply in his face).

"Watch me." He threw a particularly miserable-looking branch on his pile and watched in satisfaction as Hermione pressed her lips together so tightly that they formed a thin line of disapproval.

"Nott," she said as if addressing a stupid child, "This is pine. Dugbogs detest pine. What we need is oak. Or beech. Perhaps even sycamore."

"And where do you think we'll get those?"

Hermione pointed into a dark shadow that seemed to rise out of the fog. "Over there."

Theo's eyes widened as understanding set in. "No. No way we're getting close to the Forbidden Forest."

It was Hermione's turn to raise an eyebrow now. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Theo saw the one expression he had never expected to find on the Gryffindor's face. Hermione smirked. "Watch me." And with those words, the petite witch strode purposefully towards the shadows. Theo sneered.

"Fine! You can go for all I care! But I'm not…Ooh!" It felt as if an invisible string pulled on his insides, and before the startled Slytherin had any time to react, he found himself reluctantly dragged after Hermione. Theo snarled a few expressions that would have earned him another detention but nevertheless found himself helplessly bound to Granger. For a moment, he idly asked himself why the Charm only worked in Hermione's favour, as her voice broke through his thoughts once again.

"It seems like I have a stronger will than you, Nott."

Damn it, Theo swore. That witch seemed to have an answer to everything.

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The mist rose up around the dark trees that marked the edge to the Forbidden Forest. It swirled around their trunks like a living thing, wavering back and forth but never daring to go too deeply inside. There were dangerous things hidden in the darkness.

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A/N: The information about Dugbogs was taken from the Harry Potter lexicon which can be found here: http/ For the sake of the plot, I made up a few details about these creatures.