Hyacinth was shaken awake by Tracey, with a quick "c'mon, Hyacinth, you don't want to be late."

The Slytherin dorms each had a bathroom attached, within which were five shower stalls. Luckily, Athena woke up unusually early and had already showered, so Hyacinth didn't have to wait, and she walked down to breakfast with Drisana, who had been waiting for her. Venus trotted along at their heels.

"She's very lovely," admired the Malfoy girl, "I suppose I see now why you preferred her to an owl."

Drisana was very strange, and obviously held certain prejudices, but Aunt Petunia had always told her that you'd catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

So she ignored the obvious, and listened at breakfast while Drisana told her everything she knew about Hogwarts.

And then Hyacinth decided she would have to find out for herself what Hogwarts was all about.

Their first class was Charms with Professor Flitwick. Hyacinth achieved what she thought was "passing competence" at floating a feather.

Then, there was a Gryffindor-Slytherin study hall in one of the unused classrooms, which was being monitored by a fifth-year prefect. Hyacinth wasn't sure how much they really had to study yet, given that they'd had exactly one (1) class so far, but Hermione was already furiously scribbling away on a roll of parchment by the time Hyacinth even walked in.

On impulse, Hyacinth took the seat next to Hermione, who looked mildly surprised.

"Hello, Hermione. How was your first class?"

"Transfiguration. First essay is due Monday. It's about the basics of the subject, so don't worry."

Hyacinth slanted her eyes toward Hermione's parchment, which was already three paragraphs deep, but considered the possibility that Hermione was an overachiever.

Drisana and the other Slytherins walked in just a moment later, and Drisana frowned the same way she had upon discovering Hermione's parentage.

Hyacinth felt her stomach turn, thinking Drisana was about to say something very troublesome indeed.

Instead, she sat down on Hyacinth's other side, the others taking up empty seats all around them.

"Hyacinth," said Athena Rosier, who had sleek brown hair that fell in waves around her shoulders, "You simply must play your violin for us tonight."

Hyacinth was surprised. "Perhaps," she said, "although I was really planning on spending some time in the library with Hermione."

She felt Hermione's eyes on her.

Pansy cackled, and then was quickly hushed by the prefect in charge of them. "The library? It's the first day of school, Potter, what could you possibly have to study?"

"Well, some of us have some catching up to do. Do I look like I want to be the target of Snape's everlasting hatred?"

"You might not be able to avoid that," muttered Pansy with a sideways glance, before she was lightly slapped by Athena.

"What?"

Pansy took this moment to make her debut as an extraordinarily informative individual. "Well, it's no secret he had it in for-"

"Pansy, time and place!" hissed Drisana.

"Malfoy," said Hyacinth, replacing the hardness in her voice with a tone of playful sternness, "Tell me. Now."

"Well," she said, taking a moment.

Next to Hyacinth, Hermione was staring intently at her parchment, but no one was fooled.

Drisana collected her thoughts. "Professor Snape and your parents were all in the same year at Hogwarts, but, um, as you know, your father was in Gryffindor, and he and Professor Snape didn't exactly get along."

That could mean any number of things, but Hyacinth decided that would most likely be all she got out of the Malfoy girl.

Well, at least now she knew. She shuddered, imagining with horror what it would've been like to walk into his class without knowing that kind of thing, it was bad enough he was her Head of House.

"That just means," began Hyacinth after a minute or two of awkward silence among the Slytherin girls, "that I definitely need to study, and definitely need to mind my P's and Q's."

Drisana leaned towards Hyacinth conspiratorially. "Listen, Potter, you really ought to mind the company you keep while you're at it."

Her spine stiffened then, and she thought of a hundred thousand ways she might like to respond to that, and she saw Hermione go entirely still beside her.

She wanted to say many things, but she had devised a slow but sure scheme to rid her generation, or at least her year, of this ridiculous prejudice, and so she said only one, in this moment.

She said, "Not to worry, Malfoy, I'm quite cautious of my companions."

Drisana was just smart enough to pick up on the double meaning. She smiled.

"I was wondering when your Slytherin would show itself." Satisfied, the platinum blonde turned the conversation towards other matters, like the newest python her father was introducing to the family's snake tank.

A very strange world indeed.

That night, after her first Herbology lesson, which Slytherin had with Ravenclaw, Hyacinth actually did end up in the library with Hermione.

Hermione was helping her go through some of the beginning chapters in her textbooks and annotate for simplified understanding.

"D'you do this every year, or just for a magical school?"

Hermione smiled. "I do read ahead in my textbooks, but I had so much to catch up on, I was so worried I would be so far behind everyone else -didn't you feel like that?"

She hadn't. It hadn't occurred to her.

By the time she crawled back to the Slytherin "dungeon" (in fact it was positively stuffed with creature comforts), it was just before curfew and she had a developed understanding (and notes) of at least the first two chapters of each of her textbooks. She decided it would be very wise to study regularly with Hermione Granger.

The girls, as well as Blaise and Theo, were occupying a space near the corner of the common room. Drisana, Daphne, and Athena were sitting next to each other on a couch, while Tracey laid across all three of their laps, and the boys occupied two chairs across. Pansy was laying down on the rug, flicking through a magazine that had moving pictures on the front.

"So," asked Drisana when she saw her, her gray eyes glinting silver, "how was your study session with the mudblood?"

"I feel much better prepared for class. Hermione is an exceptionally gifted student."

There was a look of pure shock on Pansy Parkinson's face. "How?"

"It's a known fact," offered a boy from nearby, named Crabbe, "mudbloods do terribly at Hogwarts, they know nothing about magic or our world -"

"Neither did I," said Hyacinth delicately, "but I will say that she has put a much more focused effort into learning than I did."

"Well," said Drisana, "that won't last. They have a tendency to fall behind here, they're not meant for our world and so they can't keep up in it."

"They ought not to even waste the time with stealing our magic," muttered Pansy, returning to her magazine, "it isn't like they could ever do as much with it as we could have if we'd had all of it."

"Wait just a minute," said Hyacinth, feeling rather as though prejudice had a pattern, and she was recognizing it, "You think Muggleborns are stealing your magic?"

"Well, how else would they get it?"

. . .

"Genetics, that's how!" Hermione's skin was flushed as pink as it could be beneath the brown, and Hyacinth would not have been surprised to see steam shoot out of the other girl's ears.

"I thought as much."

"It must be a gene, only they don't bother teaching biology to witches and wizards!*

"Realistically," said Hyacinth thoughtfully, "they know it's not true. Deep down, some of them do, or at least the first ones to claim it knew. They just need somewhere to pin hatred."

Hermione nodded, taking a deep breath. "Their magic is becoming less powerful. They can't perform the great magics they once did, like when Hogwarts was built. Instead of looking inwards and wondering why, they look outwards and place blame. But how would I even go about stealing magic? And, you'd think, if so many people really thought there were all these Muggles out there stealing people's magic, somebody would at least try to stop it."

They did try, though, didn't they? thought Hyacinth dryly, but she did not say it. She let Hermione run through it.

In the library, they were almost entirely alone. A few fifth-year and seventh-year students were scattered about, the kind of goal-oriented people who were already preparing for their O.W.L.s and their N.E.W.T.s. But of them, came no noise, and so it was of absolutely no surprise to anyone when Madam Pince sharply told them that if they could not keep their noise to themselves, they would be asked to leave.

Hermione hushed, but the rage still brimmed underneath the surface. Meanwhile, Hyacinth wondered just how remarkable Hermione Granger might turn out to be.

. . .

The first Transfiguration lesson of the year went about as well as could be expected, when you'd been warned in advance you would have homework assigned.

And so, Hyacinth found herself sitting in the Slytherin dorms on Wednesday night of the first week of school, writing a short but detailed paragraph on why it was a particularly bad idea to Transfigure anything into food or drink, while Drisana ruminated the possibilities of their Potions lesson on Friday, and dreading the thought of History of Magic the next morning.

Apparently, Professor Binns was a ghost, and since obviously it would make perfect sense to let a ghost teach at a school of magic, nobody questioned this, only lamented his terrible boringness.

"Anyhow," said Pansy, "I can't wait til Professor Snape wipes that smug look off Granger's face."

There was a dark chuckle from Drisana. If you were looking, you'd have noticed Tracey's eyes slit, but, of course, no one was looking.

"He'll knock that stupid mudblood down a notch, that's for sure."

Hyacinth had known Hermione Granger for about three days now, and had one class with her, and the last thing Hermione Granger was was stupid.

But saying that now wouldn't go anywhere useful, so she bit her tongue.

. . .

Two days later, she found herself in the Potions classroom. As was customary by now Hermione sat on one side of her, Drisana on the other. It was a strange, unspoken power of wills going between the two of them, but Hyacinth had resolved it would be much better to just them keep at it for now. Maybe they'd even get used to each other.

Her thoughts were paused when Snape entered. She hadn't seen the Potions Master up close since the Slytherin House meeting on the first day.

Visibly, he was a mess, but a mess that tried to be very intimidating, a little bit like cleaning up the kitchen after Aunt Petunia had dirtied every dish in the house in the process of cooking Christmas dinner.

Even though he was greasy and his appearance was appalling, and he apparently had some vendetta against her father, he was still technically her Head of House, so she made her best attempt to reserve judgment.

It was made considerably harder when Professor Snape declared war upon her forever by demanding that she answer questions within the first ten minutes of class.

Luckily, thanks to one Hermione Granger, she actually did have the answers. Snape thinned his mouth in an expression that might have been pleased or might have been full of hatred, but she was finding it hard to tell.

"Told you," muttered Pansy when Snape was occupied chastising some Gryffindor boys.

"It's not your fault," Daphne murmured sympathetically.

Hyacinth chalked it up to another of life's injustice that she'd have to get around to solving one of these days, and continued with the essay Snape had assigned.

"Still," said Blaise from the seat in front of them, where he and Nott were side by side, "You'd think he might go easy on you, considering you're one of his own."

"Just goes to show you," spat one of the Gryffindor boys from nearby, "Slytherins have no loyalty."

"I didn't take you for a Hufflepuff, Weasley," drawled Blaise in response, "although maybe that's where you ought to be."

"I'd take Hufflepuff over Slytherin any day," retaliated Weasley, whose face was becoming as red as his hair.

"That's good," remarked Athena in a smooth voice of summer silk, "because I find it unlikely that Slytherin would ever deem you worthy."

Weasley seemed quite inclined to take this as a compliment, and the bickering ceased when Snape walked towards them again.

"I suggest, Mr. Weasley," began the Potions Master, "that you follow the example of Ms. Granger, and at least have the grace to keep your mouth closed if you choose to put yourself in a position near so many people you obviously dislike."

Weasley shot them a collective glare, and turned back to his assignment.

Hermione was faintly blushing under the praise, backhanded though it was.

She thought she heard Weasley vaguely mutter "Teacher's pet," but she couldn't be sure.

. . .

Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't exactly better.

Professor Quirrell was a lanky man, with eyes that shifted about the classroom. It might have been a nervous habit, but the rest of him appeared collected.

"You may imagine, as older students will tell you, that I will not be your professor for very long. This is likely true, but even so, I will do what I can while I am here." The professor smiled tightly. "Dueling. You all have heard of it. I confess, I don't believe it prepares one particularly well for realistic combat, but considering your age, dueling practice is about as far as I can get without the Headmaster making significant threats to my job and my person," here, a slight giggle ran through the class, "and so that is where we shall begin. Two students, how about Mister Weasley and . . . Miss Rosier."

Athena Rosier stood without hesitation, waves of brown waves trailing down her back as she made her way to the front of the classroom, paralleled by Weasley.

Hyacinth did not see this going anywhere good.

"But, Professor," said a Gryffindor boy Hyacinth did not recognize by name yet, "it's only the first day of Defense, how will they know how to duel?"

"Mr. Finnigan, the concepts of what a class is and what a teacher does seem to be lost on you. It works like this: I will mention what spells I consider appropriate use for today's lesson, and if they need to be taught how to use them, they shall ask. Although I suspect they are both quite familiar with a few offensive and defensive spells already." Here came a knowing smile, after which the Professor wrote a list of spells he deemed "harmless, more or less", and asked if anyone would have trouble casting them.

Nobody would, so he gave instructions for the duel to commence.

"It is finished when one of you is unconscious, or otherwise able to continue, or one of you voluntarily forfeits, although I don't foresee that one with this class."

Athena and Weasley both turned and stalked ten paces from each other, before whirling around. Athena, graceful as an antelope in the savannah, and fierce as a lion, turned in an artful manner before shouting "STUPEFY!" At the same time, Ron was turning and shouting "COLLOSHOO!"

Athena's spell landed first, and Ron fell to the ground, but his spell still hit her, resulting in her shoes being stuck to the ground until the professor applied the counter-curse.

"An important lesson," said Quirrell after he had ennervated Ron and both the students had taken their seats. "Miss Rosier won that, because she did not draw into multiple steps what she knew she could do in one, whereas Mister Weasley hoped to partially disable her so he could cast a successive curse. I do of course commend him for being strategic, but the best path is the quickest path. Who will be next?"

Next, there was the delightful spectacle of watching Pansy get knocked right out by a Gryffindor named Parvati Patil.

When it was Hyacinth's turn, she stood opposite to Daphne, and they both smiled at each other before dueling. In the end, Daphne hit her with a sleeping spell, but she was quickly awoken, and made her way back to her seat between Drisana and Hermione.

That was when the two of them were called to duel each other. Hyacinth wasn't sure if she'd like to laugh or cry, so she decided to roll with it.

Drisana was smirking. Hermione looked absolute.

In the end, Hermione was just faster, and the Malfoy heir fell to the ground with a thud that made the Gryffindors ecstatic, and the Slytherins furious.

There were more, but that was the important part, because it set the course for the rest of the day with the first-year Slytherins.

"Regardless," Blaise was saying placatingly as Drisana imagined creative ways for the Gryffindor girl to come to an end at dinnertime, "you'll always have one thing she doesn't, and that's lineage."

Hyacinth eyed him, wondering how much he believed what he was saying. How much any of them truly believed it.

She thought of her Muggleborn mother, imagined what the blood-purists of her day must have been saying about her, and grit her teeth, adding it to the growing list of her effective motivations to change the world.

Since it was Friday and now technically the weekend, Hyacinth took this as her opportunity to catch up on some sleep and made her way straight back to the Slytherin dorms after her study session with Hermione, and her bed in particular.

Unfortunately for her, sleeping in was not in the cards, because Drisana woke her at what any normal person would consider an ungodly hour.

"Drisana?" she murmured through the thick haze of sleep at the blonde girl who had felt it a good time to shove her into consciousness.

"C'mon, Hyacinth, I want to show you something, get out of bed."

"What time is it?"

"About six."

"I'd really rather not. It is far too early to handle whatever back-alley scheme you've concocted to murder my good friend from Gryffindor."

"Oh, ha ha, I actually thought I'd save that one for next weekend, you see, the weather's meant to be nicer. Come on Hyacinth you have the whole weekend to sleep."

Deciding that her lack of cooperation would not serve to send the other girl away, Hyacinth stood, still clad in the oversized pajama pants she'd stolen from Duncan, and a blue t-shirt.

"Is this what Muggles wear?" balked Drisana, who was conveniently dressed in her uniform.

"Only to bed, dummy, and I'll have you know this is incredibly comfortable."

"If you say so. Now come on, let's go."

Hyacinth slipped on a pair of boots and pulled a hoodie out of her trunk, because her bed might've had a warning charm, but the Slytherin dungeon was quite literally next to the lake and also pretty close to the bottom of the school and so had a tendency to get quite cold.

Drisana pulled her lips in disapproval at this piece of Muggle clothing as well, but decided not to waste the time, dragging Hyacinth by the wrist out into the common room, where no one was awake yet, and seriously, where could this possibly be going. Her eyes drifted to the windows, where one could see fish and the occasional merperson swimming by, and once she'd seen the Great Squid, which had given her quite a fright.

But evidently lakegazing was not what the Malfoy had woken her up for, because she was dragged out of the common room and up the staircase that led out of the dungeons.

She was then led through what seemed like an impossible path around the school, and, after about forty minutes of incessant complaining coming from herself at having been woken up for whatever wild goose chase Drisana was on, they arrived at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

"Now what? Please don't tell me you're going to kill me. You could've at least let me sleep in," said Hyacinth dryly.

"No, idiot."

"Oh god, this isn't your suicide, is it? Because, Malfoy, I don't think I'm qualified to talk you down."

"Shut up."

"Well, what then?"

"Come here."

And so they were sitting, cross-legged next to each other, staring out at the night sky as it faded.

Hyacinth figured out, then, what was going on.

"Oh my god, Malfoy, did you drag me all the way out here for a good sunrise? How very romantic, but I must confess, I really just see you more as a -"

"Die."

"Of course, I'm flattered, but-"

"Drop dead. Catch a killing curse. Fall into the lake and get killed by the merpeople."

Hyacinth dissolved into giggles, and Drisana cracked a smile, saying "I was trying to show you the sun rising over the lake, and the forest, but if you wouldn't like to see it, you may feel free to just go down to breakfast at any time."

"Shut up," said Hyacinth, very maturely, "I'll watch your stupid sunrise."

"Good, then shut up, because it's coming any minute now."

So they both shut up. A few minutes later, the sun began its crawl up into the sky, illuminating the grounds with a lovely orange glow as it went.

When the sunrise was about halfway free of the horizon, Drisana spoke.

"I wanted to talk to you, but it's hard to get a moment alone with anyone when you live in a dorm full of Slytherin girls."

Hyacinth said nothing.

"You're Slytherin in a different way though, I think," continued the platinum-haired girl, "In a more honorable way. Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask."

"Why do you study with Hermione Granger every day? Don't say because she's smart, because Theo is smart too, and so am I, and if you needed help, you could ask, but really, it's the first week of school, so much how help could you need."

Hyacinth paused, deciding it wouldn't be smart to point out that Hermione Granger was smarter than both Drisana and Theo, and if she really did need help, she'd have her best bet with the Gryffindor.

"We're friends."

"You've only known each other for a week, though. You can't be that close already."

"We're not, but we're still friends. I enjoy spending time with her."

"Hm."

They sat in silence as the sun crept further and further up.

"Can I ask you something, in return?"

"I suppose that's fair enough."

"Why do you hate her? You've also only known her for a week."

"Well, I thought that was obvious."

"It is, but still."

Drisana Malfoy took a deep breath. "Father says that a Muggleborn is a Muggle who stole magic from a real witch or wizard, and that's the reason we can't do all the powerful, ancient magic we used to be able to do."

"How would a Muggle even go about stealing magic?"

Drisana appeared caught off-guard, as though she had not bothered to consider the question before.

"Well I don't know, I'm not the one that did it!"

Hyacinth decided a sunrise was no time to fight, and said nothing.

But the seed was there, and now Drisana would begin to wonder. It wouldn't be enough, not now, not yet, but it was a start.

"How many times have you come up here this week?"

"Almost every morning. I missed it Tuesday, got confused by the staircases, but then I figured out a pattern."

"Why?"

"My mother told me I should make it up here for a sunrise or two, if I could, but once I'd seen it, I liked it too much to just see it once or twice." And then suddenly, as if in self-defense, "I haven't brought anybody else up here, though."

"I bet that's what you to say to all the girls," said Hyacinth dramatically.

"Yes, you've caught me in my clever plot to woo every girl in Hogwarts at the young age of eleven."

"Who did you bring yesterday?"

Drisana looked at her with a dead serious expression and said "Professor McGonagall."

They both laughed so hard that they would have fallen off the Astronomy Tower then, and that would have been the end of the Potters as well as the Malfoys, if not for the clever wards the professors had set in place to prevent that kind of unfortunate accident.

When the sun had finished it's rise-and-shine routine, Hyacinth suggested they go down to breakfast.

When they got there, they were met with inquiries as to where they'd been all morning.

"I had to speak with Professor Flitwick about help with the Charms assignment," answered Hyacinth smoothly, "and she came with me to make sure I didn't get lost in this madhouse you call a school."

And if, from that day, the two were a little bit closer, a little bit more concerned for each other, well, what else could you really expect from a sunrise bonding session?

Drisana Malfoy still had it out for Hermione Granger, though. Sunrises were limited like that.