Ravenclaw Revealed
In the Halls...
POV: DRACO

I sit on a wide window ledge in one of the darkened hallways, awaiting my Arithmancy class. My mind wanders to the night before when Granger held that ridiculously offensive expression of pity and offered her assistance to discover whatever I was looking for in the Slytherin line.

I'd scoffed at her suggestion that I would lower myself to work with the likes of her. Bloody know-it-all! As if I would require any assistance whatsoever! After all, it seemed she was the one who was in need of my help! I, however, unceremoniously left her with the genealogy book before my muddled mind took it upon itself to suggest such madness.

I'd picked this ledge for privacy. It was situated in a way I could hear anyone coming around the corner. So far, all was silent as I continue staring at the parchment, trying to piece the Slytherin family tree together. I slap the stone beneath me in frustration each time I come to the dead end of Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Sr. spawning the vile Tom Marvolo Riddle. It was only in my mind I could give voice to this thought, for now, the half-blood spawn in question is known throughout the wizarding world as none other than the Dark Lord himself, Voldemort to imbeciles with a deathwish who would dare call him by name.

I have never spoken the Dark Lord's chosen name myself, acquiescing to my father's desire to rise to the upper echelons of the Dark Lord's twisted society. Since becoming so entrenched in Father's dealings with him, I personally am coming to realize I have no stomach for the rung-climbing Father thrives on. Had it not been for the sake of being sole heir to the Malfoy name, and for the filial love I possess for my mother, and yes, my father, I would have run away, taking Mother with me, the practical coward that I am, to await the end of this upcoming war in some far off corner of the planet.

Tired, with the numerous Slytherin names swimming in front of my eyes, I close my potions book over the parchment and catch again the name I'd hastily scribbled on it, the name I'd memorized on the back of Granger's muggle photograph of the pretty blonde girl.

"... and so Marcus comes into the Common room and announces he knows who the bloke is in the mystery portrait," the owner of the voice is approaching the corner and I'm half listening to the conversation. "He says the Ravenclaw's name is Aiden Mustelidae."

At the sound of the surname, I startle. The name just spoken is the very same as the one scribbled on the back of my parchment. It is too uncommon a name to be a mere coincidence. I throw my bookbag over my shoulder, slide from the ledge, and position myself so the owner of the feminine voice will have to run into me as she turns the corner.

"And when he says the name, Cho was looking at the portrait and...Ooomphf..." I feel the girl's soft, shapely body collide with mine. Having expected this, I hold her shoulders to keep her from toppling. "Oh, I am so sor-, Draco?!"

"Marietta," I paste my most beguiling smile on my face, knowing this girl has had a bit of a schoolgirl crush on me since Third Year. How fortuitous. "You must be completely engrossed in your conversation to bother looking ahead of you."

I watch her face flush and she blusters through her apology. I wave at her to tell her wordlessly that it's of no matter. She stands wide-eyed, wondering why I do not begin my tongue-lashing of her encroaching upon my person. Knowing Marrietta to be an insufferable gossip, I only do what is beneficial to a Slytherin like me and inquire, "So what is it that you are talking about that has you plowing into innocents such as myself?"

"Why, the mystery of the Ravenclaw portrait appears to have been untangled, Draco! It's the talk of the house!" I try not to scoff at how a Malfoy cares not about whatever nonsense goes on in other common rooms.

But the name!

The unknown girl who Marietta had been speaking to catches one sideways glance at my haughty, dismissive glare and skitters away as fast as her little legs can carry her. I smile back at the Ravenclaw standing next to me. Marietta is all but salivating at the sight of my highly hailed good looks and appears nearly beside herself at the thought of my bestowing her with my undivided attention. I flash her my most dashing grin, offering her my elbow, through which she threads her arm as if it is the most natural thing in the world for her to do. I try not to cringe away from her.

"And so, do tell, Marietta!" I reply, feigning rapt interest, though I am biting back an urge to gag. As expected she then goes on a rather detailed retelling of the story and it is not until she gets to the part where Marcus Belby, who'd just come from Slughorn's dinner, announces that the painting is of a certain Aiden Mustelidae that I perk up.

"What do you know of this Mustelidae fellow?"

"Only what Slughorn told Marcus," she shrugs, "He seems to have gone to school with the likes of our parents and was the golden boy of his year. He was first prefect, then headboy, quidditch god. By Slughorn's account, he was top of his class and well liked by all, regardless of house. " I could almost hear the dreamy sigh forthcoming and I scowl in preparation for it.

"Sounds perfectly disgusting," I add through my clenched teeth.

"Why Draco, you sound perfectly jealous!" she twitters.

"No, just curious, I'd have thought my father would have mentioned him since it seems they might have been here at the same time."

"Oh, I doubt your father would care about a half-blood, Draco," she purrs beside me.

My ears start ringing at Marietta's casual comment. At my enigmatic expression and the sudden dropping of my arm that had been holding hers, Marietta looks alarmed, as though preparing for a verbal put down. Too caught up in the mystery of the muggle girl in Granger's picture, I bid a hurried farewell and make my way back to the Hogwarts' library.

In the Library…
POV: Hermione

"Why do you need the bloody book, Granger?!"

I concentrate on ignoring him and focus on my uninterrupted page turning. I slide my hand with quill still in it, over my notes, covering the name I'd been trying to look up. The parchment quickly rolls up at my touch and lands swiftly onto my lap, just as I'd bewitched it to do - precautionary actions that I've taken since the last time I'd been in the library with him.

Arrogant prat!

"Why, Malfoy, such a pleasant salutation certainly deserves a similar response," I reply calmly, "It's none of your bloody business."

For emphasis, I loudly shut the book I'd been looking at, belatedly realizing that it is not the same as the one as he and I had been fighting over. He notices my hand move over the book title and his eyes narrow suspiciously.

Damn it!

I move to grip the spine to cover the words there as well.

"That's not the book!" he hisses at me.

"And so, it is not! I am allowed to read whatever book I like," I say haughtily, my chin lifting. "This is, after all, a library, filled with all sorts of them."

In the midst of my eye-rolling, I fail to notice him come closer and moving like a viper on the attack, his hand is already gripping the book in my hands. I instinctively tighten my fingers around the tome, but his strength prevails and I'm left empty-handed as he wears a look of utter triumph.

Rolling the book in his hand so that the spine is within his view, I watch the ferret's steely eyes alight on the letter at the bottom of the binding.

Why must I be burdened with the likes of him while I'm minding my own business? Why?!

"Why wizarding families with the surnames of, 'M' then, Granger?" His tone is too smug and it sends tingling jolts of warning down my spine. He knows something. And he, unfortunately, is much brighter than the likes of Harry and Ron, to be thrown off easily from my own witch hunt.

"I decided it wasn't worth it to fight over the S book with you," I say quickly, my gaze downcast, staring at the parchment in my lap. "I decided to change who I'll be researching for Binn's class."

"You're a liar."

"You would know," I say not bothering to add that it takes one to know one. I realize I am too tired to be annoyed. "Why do you care anyway? You'll have the book all to yourself now."

I feel his gaze on me, taking in my defeated, exhausted frame. I'm so tired of pretending that none of this is bothering me. I think I hear him swear softly as I catch movement from the corner of my eye. He approaches with book extended, but not before he's interrupted.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy," the voice is barely controlled rage, a sound that I dislike hearing from this friend of mine.

"Potter," the blond acknowledges with disdain. "Just returning a book to the Mu-"

I see Harry's move his hand to grip his wand. I reach out to refrain him and catch Malfoy's gaze darken as my hand reaches out to touch Harry's.

"Don't," I whisper, not really knowing which one I'm talking to.

"I came to bring you to lunch, Hermione," Harry says gently, ignoring the boy standing near us, taking my offered hand into his. "You haven't been eating properly for all this studying. You'll never make it to exams if you carry on like this."

I notice Malfoy's approach again, sneering at our casual handholding. He drops the book loudly on the desk. "It seems we'll have to be sharing library space for the duration of this. So, listen to Potty, Granger. Keep up with sustenance, it wouldn't be any fun to torment a skeleton who's lost her wit. "

I'm not sure which of the three of us is more shocked at what almost sounds like poorly concealed concern and perhaps even admiration in his voice.

Before I can begin to fool myself into believing that there might be a kind bone in the ferret's body, he sidles up close, just enough for me to catch a whiff of his expensive cologne, but not near enough to raise too much ire from the boy beside me. I feel his breath move the wisps of hair at my temple, Harry's hand tightens its grip on mine. Then Malfoy whispers, "You're lying, Granger, and perhaps you don't believe a word that comes from my mouth, but here's one truth. You're never going to find her name in that book. That girl, Emmanuelle, she's a squib, isn't she?"

Before I can summon the effort to knit my brow and quiz him further, he'd already turned and gone.

Infuriating git!

"What was that about, Hermione?" Harry asks too nonchalantly that it is impossible for me not to note his concern.

"It's nothing, Harry," I reply. "We were just having an argument over some facts concerning Binn's essay."

"For crying out loud, Hermione! That's not due until the end of the semester! Besides, why work on it with Malfoy of all things? You hate him!"

I scoff.

"Hardly! He saw me working on it and now he's got his knickers in a twist about his scores, which have always been just short of stellar. He's been searching me out at the library, taunting me about how he's going to get higher marks this time," I shrug, trying to appear unbothered. "I suppose he's getting tired of being bested by a Mudblood."

My lies seem to placate Harry and I am somewhat alarmed at how easily they trip from my lips. It seems that just being in the same vicinity as the sneaky blond Slytherin brings out my more evil tendencies. We finally enter the Great Hall which is aflutter with news from the Ravenclaw table.

We near the Gryffindor table and are nearly attacked by Ginny, who has been unable to rip her gaze from our clasped hands. She moves between us and we separate. She takes the opportunity to catch hold of both our hands and pull us toward the Ravenclaws. As we move through the Great Hall, I notice a platinum blond head who had been moving toward the Slytherin table, also being caught up with the Ravenclaw news since Marietta has just found a place at his side.

I unconsciously clench my teeth at the sight of them.

"It's been the talk of the morning," Ginny informs us breathlessly. "Thanks to Slughorn, Belby's finally figured out some riddle that's been plaguing the Ravenclaws since the dawn of time!

Harry and I exchange quizzical looks over Ginny's redhead.

"Uh, Ginny, why should we care?" Harry asks confused. I, for one, am not so daft as to fail to realize that the sole reason for Ginny's sudden interest in the blue and bronze house is her immediate need to physically separate her longtime crush from the likes of me.

"Well, they're finally going to let some of us into their tower to tell us the story! I for one want to satisfy my curiosity about their common room" Ginny insists. "You know that none of us - well, maybe not you, Hermione - but the rest of us would never be able to get into it because of those horridly pesky riddles they use as passwords."

A crowd has already gathered around the Ravenclaw table and I let go of Ginny's hand. I feel Malfoy's presence at my back.

Ugh!

There is nothing more I'd rather do than spend the day curled up next to Crookshanks on my bed. But with Harry next to me and Malfoy behind and one of the Weasleys besides, I feel boxed in, an unwilling witness to whatever this new pastime was about. Neither Harry nor Ginny should really be here, considering their history with Michael Corner and Chang Cho. But here we are, regardless, and now the Ravenclaws are getting their 15 minutes of fame.

Each Ravenclaw seems to have decided that they'll be escorting the entrance of a non-house member to their common room.

Utterly ridiculous.

Marcus Belby suddenly full of self-importance has granted himself the job of pairing people up. "Cho, take Potter. Michael, take Ginny." I notice both of my Gryffindor friends begin to protest.

"Marietta, have you gone barmy? Ugh, fine! Take Malfoy, then."

And just as I think I'll be spared the trip to the west tower, I hear Harry speak up. "Marcus, what about Hermione?"

"There's no one left to bring her, Harry."

"For godssakes, Belby, let the muggle come," Malfoy's unusually benevolent words combined with his scornful tone both work to confuse and silence the crowd. "It might be the most exciting thing she's yet to have ever experienced in her sad little life. With all her pronounced love for the History of Hogwarts, Granger's bound to be nearly wetting herself at the chance to see your notorious common room."

I turn to glare at Malfoy.

"It's OK, Marcus, I don't need to go," I mumble, unaware until the words pass through my lips that I'd unwittingly offered up a double entendre.

A snicker breezes through the gathered group like a sick wind, and I see Malfoy's smirk loom large. Color blossoms on my cheeks.

"I have to meet Ron at the Quidditch pitch anyway. Why don't I let Cho escort Hermione."

"I have other things to do, Belby. Marietta can tow the Gryffindor know-it-all up your tower."

The words are spoken simultaneously by both Harry and, surprisingly enough, Malfoy. I stare at both of them open-mouthed.

While the boys glare at each other, another blonde head slides through the crowd.

"Why should anyone be left out? We'll all go," announces Luna breathily, having just joined her housemates and threading her arm through mine, "I'll bring you, Hermione. I can help keep the wrackspurts away, anyway," she whispers confidentially to me.

In Ravenclaw Tower
POV: Harry

I can feel Ginny's stare boring into the back of my head. Because of this, I keep a full arm's length away from Cho, who seems to be just as mindful of keeping a cushion of air between us, too. Ahead of me, I watch Malfoy's blond head next to Marietta. Though he seems engrossed in conversation, I notice his gaze stray toward Hermione every so often, as though keeping track of the fact that she continues to follow the herd to Ravenclaw Tower.

"… and so, every First Year is given the task of discovering the name of the bloke in the mysterious painting," explains Marcus.

"He's hardly mysterious, Marcus," mutters Cho besides me. "Every Ravenclaw girl knows that if he were around today, there would be no doubt what he'd be after."

"And he'd get it, too. Prefect, Quidditch Captain, Head Boy his last year. All the girls swooning after him..."

"Don't give his name away yet!" Marcus scolds. " We're nearly there!"

The door's eagle, a talking bronze knocker says,

"Feed me and I Live. Give me Drink and I Die. What Am I?"

What? I think to myself. Thank gods I'm not Ravenclaw! I'd be out here all night!

"It's fire, Harry!" Hermione turns and hisses at me. She seems more annoyed at my fidgeting than excited as I thought she might be at being given our first glimpse into the Ravenclaw Common Room.

"Excellent, Miss-… why, you aren't in Ravenclaw!" the eagle knocker says, it's one eye pointedly staring at my best friend.

"Errm.. No, I'm not, I'm with Gryffindor, but," Hermione seemed oblivious to her audience, conversing with the knocker. "…the Sorting Hat thought to place me in Ravenclaw. I'm Hermione Granger."

"… and bookworm, extraordinaire!" claims one voice behind us.

"Interesting," the knocker says impressed. "Well, Miss Granger, since you are in the presence of Miss Lovegood, I welcome you to Ravenclaw's Common."

I watch the door swing open and we file into a round room, filled with blue hangings and fat armchairs. The domed ceiling is painted with stars and features a replica statue of Rowena wearing her diadem. The room offered a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. An audible gasp at the beauty of the room comes from the first-time visitors.

"So, the painting we're about to unveil is the mystery man in the portrait… He graduated in 1975."

"After Father," I hear Malfoy mutter behind me.

Before mine, I think to myself.

I watch Marcus move over to the area behind us and pull on a bronze tie-back, revealing to us the image of an extremely good-looking bloke, who had it not been for the mop of bushy-brown hair and impish smile, looked a whole hell of a lot like…

"Oh my gods, it's Tom Riddle!" Ginny's gargled gasp hits me in the gut as I catch her in my arms while she's sliding away from Michael and onto the floor. The crowd is so thick that only Michael and I notice her dead faint. Hermione is still beside me staring studiously at the fellow in the painting who was now smiling and waving as though marching in some Muggle parade. I can't help but notice Malfoy's stepped back to align himself next to Hermione, giving himself an unobstructed view of her face as Marcus finally reveals the mystery Ravenclaw's name.

"According to Slughorn, this is Aiden Mustelidae."

I hear another gasp to my right and see Hermione go white and sway on her feet. To my absolute shock, it is Malfoy's hands that steady her.