Draco came back late that evening. Something seemed to be on his mind, but Tigris didn't feel like asking. He sat on his bed, meditating on the day's events. His father's words…would he actually find out about everything they did in Hogwarts? Ron…He had no clue how to deal with him. Tigris didn't want to make him his enemy, least of all, because he still liked him. In a way, he understood his reaction back on the train. Maybe he would've acted the same way if Ron had been killed by death eaters. Well, maybe not exactly, but Ron had always been more impulsive than him. The Slytherins…the only bearable one of them was Blaise, and even with her, Tigris wasn't sure. How was he supposed to survive a whole year with that group? Lastly, Snape…maybe Draco was right and Tigris' loathing of the man was excessive. But his feelings had festered over five years, so he couldn't just let them go. Sure, he had used to hate Draco at some point. But that was different. Tigris would try getting along with Snape, if only to keep up appearances. But he couldn't imagine ever liking him.

The next morning at breakfast, they received their schedules together with the others. Tigris noted how his first class was Study of Ancient Runes — four days of the week. All his other classes were four-hour blocks in the afternoon. A small, red-haired girl next to Blaise smacked her head against the table.

"Four hours of History on Sunday morning! How are we supposed to survive this?"

Draco chuckled. "You should've expected this, Tracey. The schedules are packed so tightly…it makes sense that Binns would be teaching on Sundays, considering he's a ghost."

"Oh, shut up!" groaned Tracey. "Herbology on Saturday! And Defense against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors! This schedule is pure horror! Why didn't I take Astronomy?"

"Astronomy is with the Gryffis as well," said Theodore dryly. "And it's at eight in the evening."

"It really is a shame that we have to take DADA with the Gryffindors," groaned Draco. "Especially since Dumbledore managed to hire a proper teacher for once." He glanced at a dark-skinned woman at the teacher's table with something close to adoration. "At least we got rid of them for Potions."

Tigris studied his schedule. Draco was right. Their Potions class was together with the Hufflepuffs. He looked at their new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"You know her?"

Draco offered him a shocked glance. "Mighty Merlin, no. I've just heard of her." He turned towards the others. "Arithmancy doesn't start until eleven. Anyone feel like going to the library?"

"I do. There's something I need to look up," said a black-haired boy next to Theodore. "Muggle Studies doesn't start until ten."

"You're taking Muggle Studies?" Asked the blond girl whose name Tigris still didn't know.

"Yes, Daphne," answered the boy slowly, as if talking to a very stupid person. "They teach it at this school, you know? Someone seems to think it's important."

"Is it really that interesting to you?" Asked Draco, bored. "What could Muggles know that's relevant for a wizard?"

"Oh, they have some pretty cool ideas. But that's not why I find them interesting. I think their culture is fascinating."

"To each their own," said Draco. "As long as you don't fall in love with them like a Weasley."

The boy shrugged. "The Weasleys may be going a bit overboard."

Theodore patted his shoulder. "Scratch the 'maybe' and the 'bit', Richard."

"I have to go." Daphne got up. "Runes is about to start."

Tigris stood as well. "Can you show me the way?"

She smiled at him. "Of course. Just come along."

"Wait, we'll join," shouted Pansy. Her and Millicent came over as well.

"Be nice to the ladies, cousin!" laughed Draco.

Tigris felt a childish urge to stick out his tongue at him. Instead, he offered him a mocking bow. "Always, cousin."

"If the boys are ready…" said Daphne.

"I'm ready to accompany you, Mylady," joked Tigris, offering her his arm.

"Oh, what chivalry, good Sir," she answered sarcastically, but took the proffered arm. "Let me guide you through this vast labyrinth called Hogwarts."

Tigris grinned, waving at Draco, who was laughing loudly, before leaving the Great Hall with the three girls.

To Tigris' surprise, the classroom for Ancient Runes wasn't far from the one for Transfiguration. They were the first to arrive. Tigris sat down in the first row together with Daphne, while Pansy and Millicent went as far to the back as they could. While they were waiting, Tigris fetched his book and began reading. He was pretty confident in his ability. He had read "Ancient Runes made easy" first and found it exceedingly easy. But since he didn't know what to expect, he wanted to be prepared.

Soon after, Seamus and Hermione entered. Tigris did his best to ignore them. They gave him a few curious glances but didn't talk to him. Surely, Ron had already told them about their run-in in the train. Besides them, there were four more students in their class – Hannah Abbott, Padma Patil, and two girls whose names Tigris didn't know.

Right as the bell chimed, Professor Toth entered the classroom. He was a tall, lanky man with short, gray curls that seemed about as messy as Tigris' used to be. He shut the door behind him and strode forward with billowing robes. Unlike Snape, Toth didn't come across as intimidating, but energetic instead. He seemed to have too much energy to stand still for even a moment.

"Welcome to a new year," said Toth, clapping his hands. "I am delighted to see how many of you have decided to continue this course. Place your translations on my desk at the end of class. I'm already excited to read them. Mister Malfoy, you are, of course, excused, since you didn't receive the assignment last year."

He paced up and down in front of the blackboard.

"For the past three years, we worked with the Futhark alphabet. We know that it emerged in the region of Lebanon and Syria and that, today, it is divided into four classes: the Elder Futhark, which we will mainly be discussing, the gothic alphabet, the Anglo-Saxon futhorc, and the Younger Futhark, which again is split into a Danish, a Swedish-Norwegian, a Norwegian, and a Latinised variant. We have had a look at the different meanings of each individual rune and translated several old texts with their help. If you, as I hope, haven't forgotten everything already, then you should be perfectly familiar with this runic alphabet. This course, as a NEWT-subject, will no longer deal with mere translation. But before we get to the true magic of these runes, a most fascinating topic, as I can assure you, we'll have to take a look at a few additional facts.

"There are two further prevalent alphabets: The Orkhon script, which is used in China and wide parts of Asia – we'll discuss its emergence and meaning in the next couple of weeks – and the Hungarian runes which are taught in Durmstrang to this day – we'll talk about these after Halloween. After the winter break, we'll focus on that which I know you're all excited for – using runes as conduits for magic. What are you waiting for? Take notes!"

Tigris, Hermione, and the two Ravenclaws had already been doing that from the start. The others scrambled to dig up parchment and quill. Class turned out to be interesting, but taxing. Professor Toth showed an obvious passion for his subject, coupled with a lot of energy. He wrote and drew on the blackboard with chalk, muggle-style, going so fast that it was hard to keep up. He knew a lot, not just about runes but about the people and regions where they came from and developed. He immediately noticed when someone wasn't paying attention, as Pansy and Millicent were forced to acknowledge when Toth threw a piece of chalk at them from across the classroom. The chalk exploded above them, covering them in white powder and easily stopping them from talking again. At the end of class, Tigris was delighted, but also convinced that he was far from a straight A. He had learned a lot from the books he had read, but much of what Toth was talking about had never appeared in them. Tigris was more frustrated than ever that he had chosen Divination three years ago. When the lesson was over, Tigris asked the teacher if he could recommend him further material for reading, followed by Toth dictating a long list of books that he thought would be useful. Thus, Tigris decided to head to the library while the girls returned to the common room.

Hermione said goodbye to Seamus and absentmindedly made her way towards the library. She hoped the newest Slytherin hadn't noticed how she had stared at him. He wasn't the least how she had expected him to be. According to Ron, he was a younger version of Lucius Malfoy. Hermione could almost hear his voice: "Please, stay away from him." A derisive snort escaped her. And how exactly was she supposed to achieve that? She most certainly had more than one class in common with him.

Ron had changed after Harry's death. He studied more. That in and of itself was great. But suddenly, he was possessed by the idea of becoming an Auror. He had insistently talked Dumbledore into convincing Snape to let him into Advanced Potions despite his OWL. Hermione frowned slightly. Most wouldn't notice, but even Dumbledore had changed. She assumed he felt guilty for Harry's death. Maybe that's why he had entertained Ron's request. But that wasn't all that had changed about Ron. He had gotten so possessive. He treated her as if she could vanish at any moment.

At first, right after Harry's death, this hadn't bothered Hermione. She had been so sad. When she started crying, it felt as if she'd never stop. Ron had always been there, had listened to her, consoled her. He was her shoulder to lean on. She was more than grateful for this.

Harry had always had a special place in her heart. He saw her as he was, not just the arrogant know-it-all. Hermione admired him, but their friendship went beyond that. She was proud to know the true person behind the hero that everyone else saw him as – a boy with feelings like everybody else, but Harry handled it like no one else could. That's why she truly admired him. That after everything he went through, he could still be so normal. Hermione had hated the Dursleys for how they had treated him, even if she had never said it out loud. She knew that Harry didn't want to be reminded of his family, as long as he was at Hogwarts. In a way, she blamed herself for his death. After all, wasn't his mother's love supposed to protect him? If they had loved him as he deserved, it should have worked, shouldn't it? But they had despised him and now he was dead. It was so unfair and incredibly sad. Hermione had loved Harry, truly loved him, like almost no other person in her life. He was the brother she had never had.

She had always wanted to protect him, to be the voice of reason whenever he dove into danger head over heel. When she found out that he had died, she felt as if she had failed. Hermione had always known that she wouldn't always be able to be there for him, that some things were outside her influence. But in that moment, none of her reasoning and none of her logic helped. She fell into a deep, deep hole. It was as if an irreplaceable part of her had died.

Ron had been there for her. He had caught her. When the shock had lessened with time and she had begun to process the loss, Hermione had expected her relationship with Ron to return to the way it had been before. She had been wrong. Ron continued to treat her like something fragile. He rarely took his eyes off of her. Except, when he did something he considered dangerous. Then, he left her with Ginny. 'I'm not made of glass,' she thought angrily. 'I survived as many dangerous situations with Harry as Ron has. Fine, maybe I wasn't there when he killed the basilisk. But I went to visit Grawp in the forbidden forest with him. I hexed as many death eaters in the Department of Mysteries as Ron, if not more. I can handle myself!'

She realized that her hands had balled into fists and forced herself to calm down. She loved Ron, but he had a gift for driving her mad. She wasn't about to let him dictate her life, she decided. She was her own person and would make her own decisions. She wasn't a frail lady that depended on a knight in shining armor.

Sometimes, Hermione felt like Ron tried to fill the gap left behind by Harry. It was a foolish idea, typical of Ron. No one could replace Harry, he had been unique. Irreplaceable. Just Harry.

She hadn't noticed how the gray-haired Slytherin had caught up to her until they collided. She stammered an excuse and looked up. He eyed her with a strange glance that quickly morphed into an indifferent mask.

"Could happen to anyone. Granger, right? I'm headed to the library, mind showing me the way? My cousin gave me directions, but these stairs are a bit confusing."

Hermione involuntarily smiled. A part of her that suspiciously sounded like Ron shouted 'He's a Slytherin'. She decided to ignore it.

"Yes, I felt the same during my first year. I'm on my way to the library anyway. Just come along if you don't mind."

"Why would I mind?" He asked, confused, and began walking alongside her.

"Well," she said, sheepishly. "You're a Slytherin and I'm…"

"...a Gryffindor?" He shrugged. "In my old school, they didn't have houses. I haven't quite gotten used to this rivalry yet…even if a few people from your house are rather rude."

Hermione eyed him doubtfully, hugging her books closer.

"That's not what I mean…surely, your cousin told you that my parents are muggles." The words came out a tad more aggressively than she had intended.

The Slytherin raised his eyebrows. "No, but I could've guessed. Granger isn't a name I know."

"And?" She hissed. "Shouldn't you put as much distance between us as possible? After all, I could contaminate you with my impurity."

"You seem to have me confused with my uncle," he answered calmly. "A common mistake, apparently."

"It's a bit difficult to believe you think differently after years of your cousin calling me a mudblood."

"I'm also not my cousin. I've known that part of my family for barely two months. Just because I look like them, doesn't mean I share their opinions."

Hermione was confused about how relaxed he was. "You're a Slytherin," she reiterated.

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?" They had reached the library. He looked around the large room. "But I could avoid and occasionally insult you, of course, if that's what you prefer." He smirked at her and left, joining Draco Malfoy who was sharing a table with Crabbe, Goyle, and another Slytherin. Malfoy pointed at her and asked something, but her recent companion only shrugged and set down his pile of books on the table. Malfoy seemed furious for a moment. Then, he rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his book. Hermione stared at them for a moment before looking for a table of her own and searching for the books she wanted to read. She had a lot to do and was thankful for it. She always felt better when her thoughts were occupied.

After lunch, they made their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Tigris was a tad nervous because he assumed that all of Gryffindor would have chosen this class. From Slytherin, there were only Draco, Daphne, Tracey, Blaise, and himself. When they entered the classroom, he realized that he hadn't been completely wrong. Hermione and Sally-Ann Perks were the only girls, but Ron was accompanied by Seamus, Dean, and Neville, all glaring at them. They sat down as far from them as possible. Tigris was relieved that Draco kept himself in check instead of sneering at them. He wouldn't have known how to react.

To their luck, Ron didn't get a chance to start a fight either, since as soon as they sat down, Professor Hatkee entered the room. To all of their surprise, she sat down on top of her desk, legs crossed.

"Welcome." Her voice was vibrant and warm, and it immediately drew everyone's attention despite how quietly she had spoken. "As you already know, my name is Verdandi Hatkee. If you have any questions that don't relate to the subject, now – and only now – is the time to ask. Once that's done, I'll deduce points for anything that lacks relevance to the lesson. But first of all, let's go over the list of names." She pulled out a sheet of parchment from her sleeve and checked off the names on it. "Good," she then said. "So – any questions? Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Don't take it the wrong way, Professor," said Hermione. "But what qualifies you for this job?"

Professor Hatkee smiled kindly. "A valid question, Miss Granger. As I noticed, my predecessors have left you with a bad impression. I assure you that I've gathered a lot of experience with dark wizards and creatures in the past. I have never taught before, but my old friend Kingsley eventually convinced me to lend Dumbledore a hand."

"What did you do before this, then?" Asked Seamus.

"I was a hunter," she answered, slightly amused.

"A hunter?" Dean was confused. "Did you hunt magical creatures?"

Hatkees smile turned more predatorily.

"My prey was the most dangerous creature in the world," she answered quietly, her dark eyes roaming over them.

Dean still seemed confused.

"She was a headhunter," Draco remarked.

Hatkee's glanced at him. She had a strange glint in her eyes. "Correct. Wizards and witches…the most challenging prey of all. Mister Malfoy, am I right? I met your father. He's an interesting man."

Draco's eyes narrowed a bit, but he grinned arrogantly. "Thanks, Professor."

"My pleasure. However, true compliments, Mister Malfoy, are those we earn for ourselves. Yes, Miss Greengrass?"

"Is it true that you can trace your ancestry back to the Witch of Endor?" Asked Daphne, out of breath.

Professor Hatkee chuckled. "There were many witches in Endor, Miss Greengrass. I won't deny that one of my ancestors may have been among them." She looked around. "Any more questions? No? Good. Let's start with the lesson, then. We will begin with the formal duel, talking about shield and disillusionment charms. Can any of you name any spells related to this topic?"

Everyone present raised their hands. "Miss Perks?"

"Protego," said Sally-Ann. She was one of the more silent Gryffindor girls. Like her friend Violet, she hadn't joined the DA during their previous year. Tigris was surprised that she had chosen to take Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"One point to Gryffindor. Miss Zabini?"

"Referio," said Blaise.

"Good. One point to Slytherin. Mister Malfoy?"

She pointed at Tigris.

"Disillumino."

She nodded. "Can you tell me what the spell does as well?"

"It allows someone to blend into their surroundings so that they are invisible to the naked eye from afar."

"Very good. Two points to Slytherin. Anything else?"

By now, only Tigris, Draco, Hermione, and – to his surprise – Ron had their hands raised.

"Yes, Mister Weasley?"

"Atra," said Ron. "It lets you vanish in darkness." Tigris was surprised to find out that Ron knew something they hadn't covered yet.

Hatkee smiled at Ron. "Two points to Gryffindor. That's enough for now. Whoever has already mastered a spell I'm teaching can help the others."

They proceeded to have the most interesting Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson they'd ever had. After explaining about shield charms, Professor Hatkee split them into pairs and let them duel to try out the spells they had learned. She also showed them how to cast the spell non-verbally. This would be handy in a real duel. Tigris remembered that the Dark Lord as well as Dumbledore had never said their spells out loud. It was more difficult than usual, though. No wonder that regular wizards preferred the traditional method.

After dinner, Draco met with the Quidditch team. Tigris headed to the common room and let Theodore talk him into a chess match. He immediately regretted his decision when he was checkmated after less than five minutes. In a foolish attempt to show that he wasn't as terrible of a chess player as it appeared, Tigris played four more games, all of which he lost. In the end, he was glad to survive longer than ten minutes.

When Blaise mockingly invited him to play, Tigris offered her his place, only to feel even worse when they were still at it after half an hour. Finally, he went to his room and immersed himself in one of the books Professor Toth had recommended. A bit later, Draco entered.

"I was elected the team's captain," he said, throwing his bag into a corner.

Tigris looked up from his book. "Congratulations."

Draco grinned at him. "I heard you're a victim of the Slytherin chess geniuses?"

Tigris groaned. "I never should've let Theodore talk me into it."

"Very true. But hindsight is 20/20, isn't it?"

Draco fell onto his bed. "Tryouts are on Friday."

"And?"

"You still don't want to play? With you as our Seeker, the trophy would be ours."

"No." Tigris frowned at him. "Why don't you do fair tryouts for once so that everyone has a chance to play instead of just those with the right parents? I'm sure there are a few good players in Slytherin that would be happy to prove themselves."

"That's not as easy as it sounds," snapped Draco. "It's expected of the Captain to—"

"And you always do what's expected," Tigris interrupted him. "Of course. How could I possibly have expected you to prioritize winning over tradition."

Draco stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. "Since we're at it: You should stay away from Granger."

Tigris angrily set his book to the side. "Why? So I don't get contaminated by her impurity?" He consciously chose the same words Hermione had used earlier that day.

"Don't be ridiculous," hissed Draco, just as angry. "If Father finds out about this, he'll be anything but happy, as you know. She most certainly isn't one of the people we're supposed to mingle with."

"I don't plan on befriending her," Tigris hissed back. "I just walked to the library next to her. We had the same class. I don't intend to avoid her just because her parents aren't wizards."

"You're a fool," said Draco, leaning back onto his pillow. "Do you really think he cares why you're around her? All that matters is that you are."

"And how is he supposed to find out?" Asked Tigris, furious. "What, do you want me to treat her like dirt like you did all these years? She's one of the most talented witches in Hogwarts!"

"Trust me, he will find out," answered Draco. "And yes, I'd sleep better if you did. It doesn't matter what she is. But I don't expect you to understand. You'll find out soon enough."

They stared at each other for a moment. "We'll see," said Tigris defiantly.

"Yes, I'm afraid we will," replied Draco. Then, he gestured at the book. "Runes was interesting, I take it?"

"Oh yes," said Tigris, grateful for the change of subject. "Professor Toth is quite the genius. Did you know that there are three distinct types of runes being used in the wizarding world? In Durmstrang, they teach a completely different alphabet."

"No, I didn't know," answered Draco, slightly amused.

"It's fascinating. In this book he recommended, it says that the Hungarian runes developed over three thousand years ago in Siberia…this doesn't really interest you, does it?"

Draco, who had just suppressed a yawn, smiled at Tigris. "To be honest, no. But I find it interesting how excited you are about it. I remember a time when you fled from any form of intellectual work."

Tigris tapped his book thoughtfully. "Yes, it's strange. But by now it feels normal for me. I can't even imagine being different anymore. Which reminds me: Are you free any of the evenings this week?"

"Why?" asked Draco, a bit warily.

Tigris scrutinized him. "I was going to suggest teaching you Occlumency. I'd feel a lot better if you mastered it. I had hoped that in return, you could keep teaching me hand-to-hand combat. Surely, we can find a room to practice in once a week."

"You know I've got no talent for Occlumency," said Draco. "I'm glad to be rid of Mother's constant nagging and now you want to start with it?"

"I, too, used to think I didn't have the talent for it either," answered Tigris calmly. "But there are ways to make it easier. Even if you'll never be as good as I am, I'm sure I can get you to at least be able to block out others. I have reason to believe that you have a certain predisposition for it, even if you yourself don't think so."

"If such methods exist, why hasn't Mother used them with me?" asked Draco skeptically.

Tigris grinned. "Mother probably wouldn't quite agree with what I've got planned. But in this case, I believe that the cause justifies the means."

Draco eyed him suspiciously. "It's not dangerous, is it?"

Tigris considered the question. "No, I don't think so. It's just a bit…unconventional."

Draco frowned. "I don't want to do anything that'll get us in trouble."

"It won't. Trust me, you'll thank me once we're done."

Draco still seemed wary, but he nodded. "Fine. We can train on Saturday. I was planning to stay fit anyway. It'll be easier if I have someone to train with."

Tigris smiled. "Good."

On Tuesday, Tigris went to the library with Hermione again. She still seemed nervous around him, but she had actually asked him if he wanted to tag along. Tigris obviously hadn't declined. They discussed a few things Toth had taught them during class. Draco shot him a disapproving glare when they entered, but didn't say anything.

After lunch, Tigris went to Transfigurations with Theodore, Millicent, Daphne, and Blaise. He constantly had to remind himself that he wasn't supposed to know where the classrooms were. He stuck to Blaise since Theodore still infuriated him, even if he was slowly suspecting that this had been his goal the entire time.

McGonagall held a speech about her expectations for class and explained that they'd spend the first part of the year transfiguring parts of organisms. Tigris had read about it before and knew how this was more difficult than transfiguring an entire organism.

The hard bit was making sure that all the different parts worked together. McGonagall reluctantly gave Slytherin two points for this. Now that Tigris was in Slytherin himself, he realized that, while more fair than Snape, she wasn't quite impartial. He was glad that they had the class together with the Ravenclaws.

Despite knowing everything about the theory, Blaise was much faster to give her frog spider legs than he was. This only gave rise to more dread within Tigris when thinking about Potions. It proved that theory wasn't everything. During that class, he worried, this would spell his doom.