AN: Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I really had no clue that this idea would get such a great reception, thanks for giving it a chance!
To address something that was brought up in my reviews, I feel I must explain the somewhat derogatory comments regarding Hufflepuff. I didn't mean to be putting them down, but in regards to Ginny's comment, if you remember back to The Sorcerer's Stone when Harry and Draco first met, Draco stated something along the lines of "If I got sorted into Hufflepuff I'd would leave, wouldn't you?" So Ginny was saying that the idea of Draco getting put there would be great, because it would make Draco miserable.
As for Ron, Hermione simply didn't want to see him in Gryffindor- for reasons that will be explained later
Thank you so much for your reviews, and keep them coming! I won't get any better without help!
Disclaimer: I still don't own HP.
Draco's POV:
Draco was doing his best to seem unaffected by what was going on around him; he couldn't afford to show his emotions to the world. No one was allowed to know that he was grateful just to be allowed to walk into Hogwarts once more, that he had only been one step away from being dragged away to join his bloody fool of a father in Azkaban.
It has been his mother that had saved the both of them, and Scarhead's testimony to that fact which had cemented their quasi-freedom. Bile rose into Draco's mouth as that thought ran rampant through his mind.
He owed his life and freedom to Harry Potter.
If possible, this only made Draco hate the man even more; he hated owing debts- especially to bleeding heart Gryffindors.
So lost was he, in his thoughts about the fate he had so narrowly escaped, that he didn't even notice when two of his housemates were sorted into somewhere else. He didn't notice a thing until something lightly brushed past his shoulder and a large mass of hair walked up the stone steps to place the Sorting Hat upon her head.
Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes. Yes, yes, the sodding Mudblood would go back in Gryffindor and all would be right in the world and he could go right back to making her life miser-
"SLYTHERIN!"
His heart stopped beating in his chest as he stared up in disgust. The entire Hall was silent. Had the entire world gone barmy? She was a MUDBLOOD. She was dirty.
And he had never seen her look more terrified than in that moment.
His brow furrowed slightly as he watched her walk towards the Slytherin table as if she were walking towards her death sentence. Which, in her mind, she probably was. He chewed his cheek lightly in deep thought, wondering how much this would change things. Maybe Draco should start paying more attention to the Sorting, if things were going to end up being this interesting.
Greengrass? Gryffindor? What did the damn war do, hand out personality transplants? For the first time since he had read his letter, Draco had started to waver in his resolve.
What would happen to him if he were moved? Would any other House tolerate him? With all of the enemies that he had made, somehow he didn't think that it was beneficial for his well-being to be moved out of Slytherin.
With an itch of uneasiness he thought he might suddenly have an understanding of what Granger must be feeling at the moment. But then, did he really think that he had much to worry about?
He hadn't changed since the War, had he? There was nothing different about him… sure he didn't want all the mudbloods and muggles to be exterminated, but he still didn't like them. Surely just not wanting a people to be eradicated wasn't enough grounds to remove him from Slytherin, was it?
Certainly not, because if that were the case than holier-than-thou Granger wouldn't have been shoved off into Slytherin…. Why the FUCK was she in Slytherin? What was the reasoning?
Bloody Hat was losing its touch, if you asked him.
"Malfoy, Draco."
Fuck.
Up he went to sit on that sodding stool for the second time in his life; although this time something was decidedly different. The last time, the Hat had barely touched his head before an answer was shouted across the Hall.
This time, however, the Hat sat and deliberated for quite a while.
Well, well, Mr. Malfoy. What a change you have undergone…
What? Change, what change? There had been no bloody change! He was Draco Malfoy, pure-blood, and a Slytherin through and through!
Bravery, you have shown Mr. Malfoy… and such compassion that I had never thought possible…
What in Salazar's name was it talking about! Bravery? Compassion? Draco panicked as he tried to relive the past year in his mind… he saw nothing. Nothing that would lead the Hat to draw such conclusions. His pulse began to race through his body as fear clogged his throat. If he was put into Gryffindor then he wouldn't survive the night.
He knew the hat was about to make his decision, he had to do something quick, before the worst possible thing could happen to him. He felt the Hat shift on his head as it opened the seam on its front to speak,
"GRY-"
If you let me stay in Slytherin I'll watch over the Granger girl! PLEASE! Draco thought quickly, putting all of his resolve into that single thought, clinging to what might be his last chance in desperation.
"-SLYTHERIN!"
Draco heaved a sigh of relief as he staggered from the pedestal and down the stone steps towards his table. His robes changed back to the usual color, and he had to take a moment to think about what he had promised in order to keep his skin intact- he had to watch over Granger. Speaking of Granger, as he neared his table Draco looked up to see something that almost made him pause for a moment.
The Mudblood was sitting in his seat.
About to order her to move, he looked up into her face for a moment. Although her composer was held in a mask that any Slytherin could be proud of, for just the briefest moment her eyes widened ever so slightly in fear.
Instantly Draco thought of how he had felt before he was resorted, and then he remembered his promise.
Draco Malfoy may be nothing else, but he was a man of his word.
He raised his eyebrow at her, and took a place opposite of when he normally sat before returning his attention to the Sorting.
The rest of it passed by in a blur. He was glad Pansy was joining him once again, but his world was rocked when yet another mudblood was placed in Slytherin. His eyes followed Thomas as he sat next to Granger and the two seemed to cling together, as if they were parted then their lives were forfeit. Which, to be quite honest, might not be too far off of the mark.
A small shudder ran across his shoulders as he realized that both of the former Gryffindors sitting in front of him had, at one point in time, been held captive at his home.
Judging by the looks on their faces, they hadn't forgotten it either.
Blaise joined Draco and Pansy, signaling the end of the sorting. As the feast began to fill their plates, Draco couldn't help but notice that the two figures sitting in front of him had yet to move. Pansy nudged him in the ribs, Draco turned to find both Blaise and Pansy staring at him, questioning looks upon both of their faces, as if to say, what are we supposed to do about this? Draco thought for a moment, looking the new additions over.
Granger had definitely lost some weight over the last year, the result making her cheekbones stand out higher on her slim face. She was tanned, naturally, and the color of her skin seemed to throw her few visible scars into sharp relief- and he knew exactly where the small one on her neck had come from. Ignoring the memories that fought to surface at seeing that scar, he continued his appraisal of her. Her hair, once so bushy, now seemed slightly relaxed and fell in soft brown curls well past her shoulders. Her wide mocha eyes seemed to be struggling with their owner not to hide their devastation. She would actually be something to look at once she stopped looking like she was about to be executed. Thomas didn't look so good either.
His two friends were still staring at him, waiting for him to take the lead; somehow Draco knew that the first words spoken would set the tone for the entire year.
"You know, the food at this table isn't poisoned. You're going to want to eat something, you've got a long night ahead of you- a growling stomach won't do much to help you with that." Draco made an attempt at a smile the two sitting in front of him; he could swear that he saw Pansy and Blaise relax fractionally to his right.
Hermione's POV:
She was startled at Malfoy's words, so much so that she actually jerked a little bit, before gaining control of herself once again. Hermione worked to slow her breathing before she turned her eyes upon him, simultaneously releasing her death grip on Dean's fingers.
Malfoy had certainly seen better days, but his aristocratic features looked the same as they always had. His hair looked soft and silky; he wore it loose now, so that it fell over his eyes instead of slicking it back on his head. She briefly wondered if he did that to try and hide the dark circles that had nested under his eyes. His eyes that seemed so guarded as he addressed Dean and herself.
"I wasn't aware that you cared about our well-being," She answered primly, working to ensure that her voice didn't waver. "As a matter of fact, the last time I checked you would have been excited for the detriment of it."
She heard Dean swallow loudly beside her and despite her words she did finally bring herself to eat. As much as she hated to admit it, Malfoy was right. She was going to need as much strength as she could get to get out of this alive. She looked up as she took a bite of chicken and noticed something pass through Malfoy's eyes as she did so.
Satisfaction? She gave up guessing in order to search for the pitcher of pumpkin juice, only to find Pansy Parkinson, of all people, handing her a full goblet of it.
"Things change," grunted Zabini.
"You're one of us now," Pansy supplied, setting the goblet down before her.
For a brief space of time, Hermione had thought that maybe things were going to be okay. That was before she reached her hand out to grab the goblet, and it exploded.
"Have you lot gone mad?" shouted a Slytherin sixth year. His face was twisted into a shade of puce, and his wand arm shook at Hermione and Dean while he glared at Pansy. "She's a MUDBLOOD! She could never be one of us! We should kill her where she sits! We should-"
BANG.
When the smoke cleared, all that could be seen was the shaking form of Hermione Granger who stood, wand arm extended, glaring at the figure plastered to the wall opposite them. There were a few beats of silence that Hermione took to reevaluate her actions.
But she had been so angry once he had started screaming at her. And then when he called her that filthy word and threatened to kill her, she had felt an almost debilitating rush of fear, and that had been what had finally set her off. She had spent the past year being constantly in fear for her life, and now Hermione Jean Granger was sick and tired of being afraid.
So she was stuck in a House that mainly wanted her dead, so what? She was done being afraid, she was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors weren't afraid. Despite what that ruddy Hat said, she was still a Gryffindor.
"Well, Ms. Granger, I do believe it is time to let Mr. Daival down off of the wall so that I might give the start of term announcements, don't you think?" McGonagall was standing at the podium and waiting patiently, her lips almost invisible due to the thin line they were pressed in.
"Yes, Headmistress." Hermione said curtly.
With a flick of her wand, the boy fell unceremoniously from the wall and made his way back to his seat, glaring daggers at Hermione the entire way.
"Well, as you all may know, this is a difficult situation for everyone to be in. However, that does not mean that I will allow such unruly behavior at my school. Therefore, from this point forward, I am going to be enforcing several policies that will hopefully make the transition easier for all of you. Every night all students will be forced to join their Housemates in their common room for 2 hours, no exceptions. During breakfast and dinner, all students will be required to eat with their respective Houses, no exceptions. During classes, unless otherwise dictated by your professor, you are required to sit with your Housemates. If time shows that these arrangements are not enough, I will be forced to take more severe action."
At this point, Hermione closed her eyes in despair, and stopped listening to the rest of the announcements which were, thankfully, a standard variation of the normal rules and regulations that Hermione had been listening to since she was 11.
The next thing she knew, the announcements were over and students were getting up, heading to their dormitories. For the second time that night, Hermione jumped at the sound of a voice. This time, however, it was the voice of the Headmistress. And it was right behind her.
"Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy. I need to talk to you about your living arrangements."
Hermione could have sworn that her heart had stopped beating. Why had she and Malfoy been lumped together in that statement? Surely that couldn't mean…
Malfoy locked his panicked eyes with her own.
"Because the two of you live in the same house, it makes things slightly easier. The two of you shall have your own suite containing two bedrooms connected by a bathroom, your own private common room and a small kitchenette. You access your suite through the large painting in the main Slytherin common room. Your password is 'true colors', good night." And without another word the Headmistress and Hermione's former Head of House strode out of the hall.
Hermione slammed her head down on the table in defeat.