Chapter 4: Blood and Betrayal

There wasn't much that could startle Hermione anymore. Her instincts from the war, although not as sharp as they once were, still kicked in when situations called for it. They were mostly useful in class when students were being rowdy or rebellious, and her quick reactions and thinking often intimidated her students. All the better in the long run, Hermione told herself with a smile.

She had found a sense of peace at Hogwarts after her first weekly tea meeting with McGonagall; the woman was truly a beacon of hope for Hermione, and after their chats, the tension left her shoulders and she stepped with a newfound confidence through the halls.

The bubble of inner peace shattered when she heard it.

Her hearing immediately honed in on the sound, and she took off in a sprint. Chest heaving, hair flying, heart pounding, Hermione Jean Granger thundered through the corridor, skidding to a halt as she came up on three boys, all of whom had their wands aimed at each other's throats. Immediately, Hermione brandished her own wand and called out," STOP, all of you!" The sound of a spell firing still thrummed in her ears.

The boys' eyes never left each other's, but the youngest boy slowly lowered his wand.

"James Potter, lower your wand NOW. Nero Zabini—LOWER YOUR WAND THIS INSTANT!"

Red light shot out of Nero's wand and towards James as the former whispered an incantation, but the boy stepped out of the way and raised his wand high—

"Expelliarmus!" James's wand shot out of his hand and towards Hermione. Even before the woman had snatched it out of the air, Nero's was on its way to her as well. "You boys," she said sternly, still breathing heavily, "Should be ashamed of yourselves!" She plucked the wands out of the air tapped them against her thigh in one hand, clenching her own wand in the other. "Scorpius," she said sternly, fixing him with a glowering look. "Thank you for lowering your wand. But that still does not excuse you for aiming it at another student! Or anyone for that matter!"

Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the trio. The elder two were glaring at each other as though they could set fire to the other's trousers. Sighing, Hermoine stood in between them both and glanced from one to the other. "What happened?"

No one spoke for a few seconds. Hermione raised a thin eyebrow and turned to Scorpius when Nero spat on the ground. The splat of saliva was revolting. "It's nothing your kind would understand... Professor," he added slowly, almost tauntingly. A proud smirk tainted his lips, and Hermione's face boiled a bright red.

"Why you little—" James started, taking quick steps towards the boy before Hermione held up a hand to halt him.

"Nero Zabini! To your dormitories immediately! Do not let me catch you in the halls again or it's detention for a month!" Bristling, she added, "One-hundred points from Slytherin and detention with Filch this coming Monday! Now off you go!"

Head held high, Nero held out his hand, palm up, towards his professor. He raised an eyebrow in innocent questioning as Hermione simply stared at him. "My wand?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "You'll get this back tomorrow morning. Off to bed. Now."

His eyes flashed maliciously for only a moment; Hermione was sure that anyone other than a war veteran would have missed it. She, however, saw it for exactly as it was. A deep, gnawing hatred, this time aimed towards Muggle borns. Her kind. Her.

Nero turned away from Hermione and daintily walked past her, roughly bumping into James's shoulder as he passed. He paused beside Scorpius and muttered something Hermione didn't catch before continuing his leisurely stroll towards the dungeons.

The hair on Hermione's neck stood on end at the implication the boy had made. Cocoa eyes narrowed, she felt cold, as though her chest were a thick piece of ice waiting to crack. Mudblood. She heard it clearly in her head, just as she heard it clearly in Nero's tone. Mudblood. Good-for-nothing. Poison of the Wizarding World. She shivered, an echo from her past surfacing.

Blonde hair, always blonde hair. A sneer pulling his lips tight and an air of satisfaction as Hermione felt a tear slide down her plump cheek. Laughter and jeers pummeling her, forcing her feet farther into the ground, the grass not strong enough to keep her from falling deeper and deeper into the ground. Or so it felt, really, since in reality she didn't move. Not even a millimeter.

Shivering, Hermione returned to the present and to the two remaining boys, only truly seeing the blonde of one boy's hair until she blinked a few times. Scorpius looked paler than normal, and Hermione's face twitched from the mixed feelings of pain and concern. "Are you alright?" She reached out to touch the boy's forehead with the back of her hand, but he recoiled. "Scorpius—"

"I'm fine," he said tightly, his eyes to the ground. "May I go now?"

Hesitantly, his professor muttered, "Yes, you may go. But I'll expect to see you in my office tomorrow morning with an explanation for tonight's affairs."

Nodding, Scorpius Malfoy turned on his heel and retreated towards the Gryffindor Common Room, his footfalls easily lost in the sound of torches flickering.

A heavy sigh escaped Hermione, one that James didn't miss. "Professor," he said darkly, "Zabini is a foul-mouthed—"

Hermione silenced the boy with a sharp look. "Watch your mouth, James Potter."

"It's true! You know it is! You should have heard the things that vile Slytherin was saying to Scorpius!"

Sighing, Hermione rolled her shoulders backwards once to try and loose some tension. Her slight burst of adrenaline had dispersed, leaving her feeling more drained than before the altercation. "What happened?"

James was brimming with the answer. "Zabini just walks up to us – Scorpius and I – and starts throwing insults at him! I've known Nero since our first year together at Hogwarts, he's in my year, you know, and I've never seen him look so put off! But it doesn't make sense to me. Nero is more of the collected type, so I don't know what would set him off." Frowning, James muttered a few things and started pacing.

Hermione tried not to roll her eyes and waiting for James to speak again.

"He said some harsh things, Hermoine."

The woman couldn't help but muse how much James looked like his father then, and a half-smile softened her features. "Boys will be cruel, James, it happens quite often—"

"No," James said loudly, the sound echoing through the halls. "Cruel things, Professor. Things people of old would say, not a current third year at Hogwarts."

It took Hermione a second to fully grasp what James was trying to say. "But James, the Pureblood status isn't as prominent as it once was. Ever since the Minister worked with Muggle scientists to look into genealogy and specifically the genes separating Muggles from Wizards, the notion that Purebloods are better than Muggles and other Witches and Wizards has nearly gone extinct, and that was revealed about eight years ago. I highly doubt that young Mister Zabini would still hold such…" Trailing off, Hermione frowned. Nero had implied that she was inferior just moments ago. Why had she been so quick to defend him when he was clearly doing just as James said merely minutes ago?

Looking up at his professor, James looked conflicted. "P-professor? Are you okay? You look kind of… spacey."

Wracking in a breath, Hermione's face flushed and she flailed her right arm for no reason. "Yes," she squeaked, taking another breath. "It's just been a while since I've been confronted with anything so… close to home." Absentmindedly, she rubbed her thumb over the underside of her forearm. It was prickling uncomfortably. "What exactly did he say, James?" she asked, her voice a soft whisper.

For a moment, the only sound was the pair's breathing. "He called him a blood traitor." Looking uncomfortable, James continued, "Nero was ruthless and zoned in on Scorpius like a snake. Scorpius just looked frozen, like he was having a bad dream." James scowled and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Nero was pissed, but I didn't understand why, nor did I really wait to find out. I was the first to pull out my wand." He gave Hermione a sheepish look, but the woman was lost in thought. "Then it escalated. Nero drew his wand while Scorpius fumbled for his own. Nero kept going, though, and said horrible things about Scorpius and his father, saying that his mother would be rolling around in her grave. 'To think a Malfoy would be in Gryffindor,'" James quoted, sounding scarily like Hermione imagined Nero would. "'Your dead mother must be howling, clawing at the lid to her coffin to try and escape to strangle the traitors she once called family.'" James's eyes looked hollow, and Hermione had to force herself to look away.

Clearing her throat, Hermione hummed to herself for a moment and turned her thoughts in another direction. It was strange – the entire situation. Like the tables were turned, and she or Ron of the past were the ones in Scorpius's current situation. Hermione was a Mudblood to the Pureblood society, and Ronald was a blood traitor, or at least, in the past they were. Just as she had told James, the Wizarding society had gradually changed to a more accepting society. The old blood mixed with the new, and there were very few entirely Pureblood families left. It seemed odd that the Zabinis would continue the old ways when so much was changing around them. And what of the Malfoys? Was Scorpius alone in his newfound way of thinking?

An image of Draco looming over her, his eyes molten silver and his pale skin a darker color, flashed in Hermione's mind, and she almost jumped out of her skin. James, not noticing, continued speaking.

"He called Scorpius and his father a stain on the Pureblood name. He said that they should go ahead and kill themselves so the world would be rid of traitors like them." James shivered, and his voice was quieter. "He said that they betrayed not only their ancestors but You-Know-Who."

Hermione froze, forgetting about the image from moments before. Her muscles all tensed at once and she forgot to breathe. "H-he said what?"

Nodding, James stayed silent. There was a ban in place on saying Voldemort's name now – the Potters and Weasleys found the law ridiculous, but there was a trace on anyone who spoke the name. Ridiculous, yes, but it was still cause for concern in the Ministry's eyes, it seemed.

Pursing her lips, Hermione immersed herself in deep thought. Draco and Blaise were friends in school; what drove them apart? The war? It was possible, of course, but unlikely in Hermione's eyes. The two sides stuck together, and only a few brave souls intermingled with both You-Know-Who's party (or what was left of them after the Death Eater trials commenced) and Harry's. Hermione had assumed that the Malfoys had returned to the manor and their remaining Pureblood families, but was this not so? Blaise and Draco wouldn't have been split so easily, would they have? Was it because the Malfoy's didn't fight in the final battle?

Warmth flooded through Hermione's icy skin as James put his hand on hers. "Professor? Hermione? Are you alright?"

Flinching, Hermione had to resist the urge to jerk away from the boy's touch. "Yes," she choked out, forcing a smile. "Yes, of course." There was another silence, although this time there was a palpable tension in the air. "James," Hermione said silkily, taking the boy by the shoulders, "You should head off to bed now. I'd hate to have to give you detention for wandering the halls past curfew."

James looked ready to protest, but with a wave of her wand, Hermione set his legs on forward motion to where they would continue until James reached the Fat Lady's portrait. "Professor! This is unfair! Turn the charm off!"

Chuckling, Hermione slipped James's wand in his pocket and watched her student's stiff-backed walk. "If you had been paying attention in class, you would know the counter-charm for it!"

James quieted down as the portraits complained about his muttering, and he soon rounded the corner and was out of Hermione's sight.

The energy Hermione previously had from her chat with McGonagall was entirely depleted, and Hermione felt the need for a long soak in one of the many baths Hogwarts housed. She needed to work through the information she had just gained; she needed to process it all. The Zabini family was no longer friends with the Malfoys? What of Narcissa and Lucius? What of Draco? And Scorpius's mother—rolling around in her grave? What had happened? Had the Malfoys taken to the notion that Muggles and Wizards were mostly identical genetically, or had something else caused a rift in the Pureblood society?

What was the reason for the animosity between Pureblood families?

Author's Note: I took the idea of Muggles and Wizards being the same genetically except for a mutation from Beringae's story, The Nietzsche Classes. If you haven't read it, I recommend you do! It's wonderful and compliments how I think Dramione shippings should evolve, really. :) All credit for the gene information / idea goes to her and her credentials!