CHAPTER SIX

September seemed to fly by yet drag on endlessly all at the same time. The first day of classes had elicited the usual excitement of years gone by before the reality of her situation descended upon her and brought with it a mounting sense of dread. Walking from the Slytherin Common Room to the Great Hall for breakfast had felt like a much longer journey than she was used to making, despite the fact that it was leagues closer than Gryffindor Tower. Scanning her table, Hermione once again wondered how many of her current peers would grow to take the Dark Mark.

How many already had?

It was that thought that constantly haunted her, always reminding her to avoid forging friendships despite her loneliness. The only person she really talked to was Andromeda Black, but even that was sporadic. Hermione's days were spent going from class to class, avoiding eye contact and trying her hardest to keep her hand down. It had turned out that she had a few classes with Andromeda, but as she had been told the first day, most of her schedule coincided with that of Lucius Malfoy.

Going about a daily routine in a time before she was even born was trying and tiring for her. Everywhere she turned she saw something familiar, and yet at the same time, this whole experience was surreal and foreign. Whispers of conversations in the halls would have her whipping her head around, hoping to see a familiar face, only to be greeted by the backs of passing students. At the end of a long day she often found herself halfway to Gryffindor Tower before realizing her mistake and trekking down to the dungeons. The unmistakable shock of blond hair she seemed to notice at every turn was the most confusing of all.

There was nothing for it, no way around it. For all he resembled his son, or rather for all his son resembled him, Lucius Malfoy was NOT Draco Malfoy. There was no disdain in Lucius's eyes when he looked at her. When he spoke to her, his words were civil, almost friendly. Hermione tried hard to remember who he was, who he would become, but it was often difficult to reconcile the man she knew with the one she was interacting with on a daily basis. Between dealing with Lucius Malfoy and trying to watch what she said and how she acted around Andromeda Black, Hermione was certain she would go completely mad before she returned to her own time. Her only saving grace was her classes, when she could sit in the back, nose buried in her work, and keep completely to herself. The problem was that either Andromeda or Lucius were in all of her classes.

Potions was a lesson shared with both, along with Rabastan Lestrange. On the first day of classes, the four took up a common work space knowing that should partners be required, they would be taken from the same table if possible. Hermione had put her head down and worked diligently on her Draught of the Living Death, all the while pretending to listen to Andromeda's incessant chatter, ignoring Rabastan's constant flirtation, and avoiding Lucius's penetrating and curious gaze. At the end of the lesson, she bottled her potion, cleared her space, and left the room, never once speaking to either of the Slytherin boys. It was a pattern that she hoped to continue for the whole of her time there.

It was a difficult task for Hermione to keep her head and hand down in class, but somehow she managed. Instead, she focused all her energies on her studies in order to maintain marks that were acceptable to her. The downside to putting all her effort into her work was that she often found herself with little to do besides people watch. During her revision every night, she would frequently and silently take note of the others in her House.

Andromeda was most certainly the social butterfly of the group; no one could ever accuse her of being shy. The other girls in her year would often be found hanging on the middle Black sister's every word and agreeing with her or laughing at her jokes, regardless of if they actually agreed or found her amusing. Always close to Andromeda's side was a girl by the name of Marjorie Selwyn, whom everyone referred to as Margie. Margie was a petite witch, standing no taller than your average first year and so thin that you thought she would blow away at the slightest breeze. Two other girls, a tall blonde named Serendipity and a rather average looking redhead that everyone called Liz also fell into Andromeda's main social circle. There were others who came and went from the group, both older and younger, but it appeared as if the name Black held a lot of sway over the other Slytherins.

While Andromeda's outgoing nature drew attention from the Slytherin girls, the cool aloofness and powerful aura of Lucius Malfoy gained admiration from most of the boys. Most time he could be found sitting before the fireplace with his usual band of friends. Wilkes, Avery, and Lestrange were always closest to him, along with a few seventh-year boys that Hermione hadn't taken the time to meet properly. There was also the occasional fourth or fifth year about, but the thing that surprised her most was the presence of a slightly gangly first year that she knew to be Severus Snape.

It was always a bit jarring to see the younger version of a man she was so familiar with from her own time. He was so ambivalent, trying to fit in while keeping to himself. Sometimes in the halls, Hermione would see him walking with a first year Gryffindor girl who almost reminded her of Ginny Weasley. Other times, he was quite alone, looking for all the world as if he was merely trying to blend into the walls. It was with quite a shock that Hermione realized the young Gryffindor Snape would walk with was Lily Evans, who would grow to marry James Potter, and give birth to Hermione's best friend before losing her life. Seeing the two in the halls together was almost enough to make her cry, not only forcing her to accept the fates that awaited them, but also simply because she missed her friends.

As September reached its half-way point, the longing ache in her chest intensified. She had thus far been successful in keeping herself distant from the rest of the students, but the giant hole in her heart felt bigger and bigger the closer it got to the nineteenth. Hermione had been in the past for a full month and the absence of her best mates on her birthday was causing a depression unlike anything she had ever experienced. Coupled with that malaise was the appearance of nightmares. The details of the dreams were always sketchy when she bolted upright in her bed, but the theme was clear: She was being chased through the Ministry of Magic by Death Eaters.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

It was late, half one in the morning and Hermione was seated on the sofa in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room. She'd had another nightmare about the events in the Department of Mysteries prior to her time travel and found that she couldn't get back to sleep. Since she was wide awake anyway, she decided to get a jump on a Potions essay that was due in a few weeks. That was how Lucius found her, almost an hour after she had begun working.

'What are you doing?'

'I'm writing my Potions essay.'

'Are you certain about that?' he asked, confused. 'It seemed as if you were feeding the fire.'

Apparently, he'd been watching her for at least a few minutes, for he seemed to be on to her.

'I'm not feeding the fire,' she snapped back. 'I told you that I'm working on the Potion's assignment!'

'Then tell me why you keep throwing parchment into the flames.'

Hermione took a deep breath and prepared to snap back at Lucius. She turned in her seat, but when she looked up at him, she saw amusement and even a hint of warmth behind his eyes. All thoughts of rudeness died on her lips as he flashed a slight smile at her. Shaking her head, she turned back to the parchment before her and reread her most recent work. Finding it severely lacking, Hermione crumbled it up into a ball and tossed it toward the flames. Before the offending essay reached the hearth, it was summoned back away from the fire and into the hands of the tall, blond man who was now residing on the sofa beside her. He unrolled the sheet and read over the few inches she had decided were unworthy of submitting.

'You were really going to chuck this?' Lucius asked her in a most perplexed tone.

'Don't patronize me, Malfoy,' she snapped. 'I know how bad it was. I wrote it, remember?'

Lucius simply stared at her, watching in awe as she began writing anew. 'Bad? You must be joking. Most of the Ravenclaws would be chuffed to bits to lay claim to this, yet here you sit, carelessly throwing it away. Are you mad, witch?'

'Yes, well, I'm not in Ravenclaw, now am I? Besides, I need to make good marks if I am to have any chance at a decent career, and with N.E.W.T.s coming up, I need to be prepared.'

'I would say you are more than prepared. Judging by the looks of this, I would say it rates at least an E, if not an O.' Lucius sighed and stood. 'It's no wonder you have no social life. You should relax a bit, Hermione. There is more to Hogwarts than the pursuit of perfection.'

'That may be true, but when school is over and I apply for a job, no potential employer is going to ask me how many friends I made at school. However, I can guarantee that they will be most interested in how many N.E.W.T.s I received.'

Hermione continued to write, finally happy with the progression of the essay, and never noticed Lucius studying her. As she began work on the second roll of parchment, she heard him slip from the room. Hermione then began writing in earnest, finally able to direct her thoughts toward something that wasn't Lucius Malfoy or the way her name had sounded in his voice. It was the first time he had used her first name, preferring to address her as Granger in a way that was oddly reminiscent of his son, but without the tone of contempt and loathing that the younger Malfoy had always used. She had dropped the "Mister" from his name and the two had gotten on just fine referring to each other by their surnames. The sudden change from him had set her slightly off kilter, but she was determined to push past it and go on as if nothing had changed.

Determination turned out to be the least of Hermione's problems on that particular Sunday. Without the usual distraction of classes to occupy her mind, Hermione spent most of the day trying, and failing, to lose herself in books. While she could most certainly attribute a part of her problem to having stayed up writing her Potions essay until half four in the morning, that wasn't even a drop in the bucket that was her issues. Sitting near the wall at the edge of the common room, Hermione couldn't help but see people in threes. Andromeda was sitting near the stairs that lead to the dormitories with Margie and Liz. Lucius took up his regular position by the hearth with Rabastan and Severus. There was a group of fifth years huddled over some books near Lucius. A few first years were practicing wand movements by the hall that lead to the Slytherin study rooms. And on. And on.

Hermione's heart ached as she picked up book after book, all of them focused on friendship and love, two things that didn't exist for her in this time. She finally gave up reading as a bad job when she settled on a book that turned out to be a tale of a young girl who had been separated from her parents with no hope of ever seeing them again. The only fortunate thing about her disgust with this particular novel was that it was late enough in the day that she could retire to bed and not be looked at strangely. She lay in bed awake for four hours before the last of her dorm mates drifted off into the arms of Morpheus. Unable to take it any longer, Hermione rose, pulled on her dressing gown and padded back down to the common room.

The room was mercifully empty. Hermione didn't think that she had the patience to deal with anyone at that moment and was thankful that everyone else had decided to retire to bed at a semi-reasonable hour. Settling down before the fireplace, she lost herself in thought while staring at the dying embers of the fire. Memories of time spent with Harry and Ron up in the Gryffindor Tower rushed to the forefront of her mind as tears began to seep from her eyes. She didn't know how long she had sat there, it could have been a few minutes or even a few hours, but she was startled from her thoughts by the appearance of a handkerchief in front of her eyes.

'Thanks,' she said without looking up at her visitor, choosing instead to dab at her eyes with the cloth.

'I've been wondering when you were finally going to break down,' came the surprisingly calming voice of Lucius. At her shocked look, he continued. 'Since I left you down here last night you've looked as if you've lost your best friend.'

Lucius and Hermione sat in silence for a few minutes, Hermione regaining control of herself while Lucius waited patiently for her to speak. After a few hiccoughs, she was finally able to talk.

'It's hard for me, being here,' she began, unable and unwilling to meet his steady gaze. 'Being away from everything I've ever known. Not having my friends here when I need them. I feel as if my entire world has been turned upside down, like I'm living in a different country, on a different planet, so far out of my comfort zone that I can't tell which way is up and that the next step will drop me over the precipice and into my destruction. It's so hard for me, looking around and knowing –'

Hermione stopped dead in her little speech, suddenly aware of where she was and with whom she was speaking. She had almost given herself away to an enemy while breaking the laws of the errant time turners that had brought her into the past. Taking a deep breath, she stared down at her hands setting intertwined in her lap while mentally reviewing what she had said and trying to figure out how much she had given away.

'Well, you are in a different country, so I can understand where that feeling comes from.'

His voice held the slightest teasing tone, but Hermione knew that she had to redirect the conversation away from that very minor verbal slip.

'Yesterday was my birthday,' she revealed. 'It was the first time in my entire life that I didn't have friends or family surrounding me, making me feel happy while taking the mickey out of me for being another year older.'

Once again there was silence between them. Hermione was feeling vulnerable for giving up that piece of information, but at the same time she was happy that there was finally someone in this time that she could talk to, even if just a little. While it was nice having Andromeda about, and knowing where the witch's loyalties would eventually lie, the middle Black sister was currently showing none of the ideals she would later possess. Sitting with Lucius and exposing herself to him, even if only a little, was like giving over to the devil she knew. A rather large part of her expected him to deride her for her vulnerabilities, for not better internalizing her pain. Thankfully, though, he was surprisingly human and very unlike the man he would become as an adult. He simply offered the proverbial shoulder to cry on while saying nothing about the very real tears still occasionally falling from her eyes.

The clock chiming twice pulled them both from their thoughts. Hermione noticed that Lucius visibly started at the first tone, but didn't call him on it. Instead, she used the late hour to remove herself from a situation that was far too close to crumbling her already fragile resolve. Distance was needed here, not more revelations about her life before the start of term.

'Thank you for listening,' she said while standing. 'I apologize for burdening you with my insecurities.'

The words were what she thought he would want to hear mixed with just a smidgen of self-pity. She didn't care, though. Having spent a little over a month in a time before she was born, she was allowed to feel a little sorry for herself. What she wasn't expecting was his hand on hers as she tried to leave the room without another word. The action shocked her, causing her to pull her hand back almost as if she were burned. The hurt look that briefly crossed his face forced another wave of sadness washed over her.

'I'm sorry. I just… I just can't.' Hermione turned and fled the room, running down the hall toward her dorm and leaving behind a very bewildered Malfoy.