Hermione ran into Harry on her way out of the bank, being dragged along by Hagrid.

"Harry!" she said, gasping. "What happened to your glasses?"

Harry was covered in soot, cobwebs, and his glasses were broken. Whipping out her wand, Hermione began repairing his glasses and brush off the soot coating his clothes.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said with relief. "Err… aren't we not supposed to use magic over the summer?"

"They can't tell who casts a spell, only the area it was cast in, generally," Hermione said absently. "If you don't get caught, there's no proof it was you." Having set Harry to rights, Hermione stepped back, craning her neck up. "Hello, Hagrid."

"'Lo, 'Mione," Hagrid grinned. "Yeh not on yer own, are yeh?"

"Well, I'm supposed to be meeting Harry and the Weasleys here," Hermione said, side-stepping the question. "Actually – Harry, weren't you coming with the Weasleys?"

"I got lost," Harry said, scowling. "We didn't take the Tube. There was this awful thing with the fireplace – Floo Powder, they called it – and I ended up down this dingy alleyway. I need to find the Weasleys–"

"Yeh won't have long ter wait," Hagrid said, satisfied.

Hermione and Harry looked around. Sprinting through the crowds were Ron, Fred, George, and a couple other Weasleys, too.

"Harry," a balding red-headed man said with relief, panting. "We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far…" He mopped his glistening bald patch. "Molly's frantic. She and Ginny are coming now…"

"Where did you come out?" Ron asked.

"Knockturn Alley," Hagrid said grimly.

"Excellent!" said Fred and George.

"We've never been allowed in," Ron said enviously.

"I should ruddy well think not," growled Hagrid.

"Knockturn Alley?" Hermione questioned. "What's that?"

"It's an alley full of dodgy things," Fred told her.

"Things of, perhaps, questioning legality," George added.

"-or questionable morality-"

"It's where Dark wizards shop," the taller Weasley boy snapped. "It's entirely inappropriate to go down. And I'm horrified that I'm related to people who even would want to."

Hermione turned to the older Weasley boy, tilting her head.

"Percy, right?" she asked.

Percy drew himself and looked down at her.

"Yes, I am," he informed her. "What of it?"

"Do Dark witches shop in Knockturn Alley as well, or only Dark wizards?" she asked him. "I need to know these things."

Percy looked horrified. "You're not seriously-"

"I'm just curious," Hermione said, her eyes glinting. "I mean, 'wizards' is a gendered term, so for all I know-"

Percy scowled at her, while Harry stifled a laugh.

"Witches and wizards of good standing do not shop in Knockturn Alley," he informed her frostily.

"Thank you," Hermione said politely. "Good to see sexism still alive and well in the wizarding world, too."

Harry had a coughing fit, trying to hide his laughter. Ron looked part stunned and part confused, while the twins were openly snickering at their brother.

"Oh, Harry-!"

Mrs. Weasley came running up, pulling the small Weasley girl along with her. Hermione took a careful step back as Mrs. Weasley began to fuss over him. Harry looked rather embarrassed over the whole thing.

When they finally separated from Hagrid, they all began to head into Gringotts, Hermione tagging along despite having just left the bank.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione. "Malfoy and his father."

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" said Mr. Weasley sharply.

"No, he was selling," Harry replied.

"So he's worried," Mr. Weasley said with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…"

Mrs. Weasley objected to that, and whilst they were bickering, Harry drew Hermione closer.

"Hermione, I didn't want the others to hear this," he told her, his voice quiet, "but they mentioned you."

"Mentioned me?" Hermione blinked. "Lucius Malfoy?"

"Both him and Draco," Harry confirmed. "Lucius Malfoy made a nasty remark about his son's grades, referencing you."

Hermione gave him a careful look as they waited in line for one of the goblins.

"What exactly did he say, Harry?" she asked.

Harry bit his lip and looked awkward.

"He was criticizing Malfoy's grades," Harry said. "Malfoy objected, saying he came in second in the class, and his dad said that he'd have thought Malfoy would be ashamed that 'a girl of no wizard family' beat him in every exam."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Malfoy objected, though," Harry continued, even more quietly. "He said that it wasn't like that – that you were New Blood, and that his father couldn't possibly expect him to compete with someone who had a backdoor to Magic itself."

Hermione was interested despite herself.

"And what did Mr. Malfoy say to that?" she asked.

"Mr. Malfoy said he'd never heard of such tripe in his life," Harry admitted, "and that if his son was determined to keep lying to him, to try something more plausible than the deranged claims of a trumped-up Muggle-born."

Hermione smiled a grim smile.

"Deranged claims?" she repeated. "We'll see about that…"

As they reached the front, Hermione was excited to go down in a cart with them all, but including her would put the cart over its passenger limit.

"We'll need two carts," Mrs. Weasley said, worriedly. "Or rather, no, we'll leave some of the kids behind…"

"I want to go!" Ginny objected. "It's my first time getting to ride in the cart!"

"Hermione can go down with me, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said hastily. "We'll meet you right back up here."

The journey underground was exciting, and Hermione enjoyed whooping and screaming right along with Harry, as if the breakneck journey on the carts were a roller coaster. When they arrived at his vault, Hermione leapt out, laughing and gasping, Harry falling out next to her.

"That was amazing!" Hermione declared. "I need to go visit my own vault, the next time I come here!"

Even though Hermione knew what to expect, Harry's vault was a literal vault, buried in the side of a mountain deep underground. It still seemed so surreal, and even more surreal to see that it had actual piles of gold coins in it.

"I'm glad we split up from the Weasleys," Harry admitted, sweeping coins into his bag. "I don't know how much gold the Weasleys have, but from Ron… well…"

Draco constantly derided the Weasleys for their poverty, Hermione knew. It wasn't hard to guess how awkward Harry might feel, having them see the bountiful contents of his vault.

"This is your inheritance?" Hermione asked, giving it a careful look. "This isn't bad. There looks to be a small fortune here."

"I'm glad it should be enough to get me through school for all seven years," Harry said. "I can't imagine asking the Dursleys for money to pay for spell books…"

"Oh! That reminds me!"

After they reached the top floor of Gringotts once again and headed outside, Hermione drew the Weasleys over out of the way of traffic before opening her bag, taking out a box of books.

"Harry reminded me – we all need spell books, right?"

"Yeah, including the full set of Lockhart's works," Ron groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Well, I have a solution to help with that part, at least," she said brightly. "Here."

Hermione began handing out small boxes to everyone – one to Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, and Percy.

"What're these?" Harry said, flipping open his lid.

"They're all the Lockhart books," Hermione told them. "I shrunk them down for easy storage. Harry, Ron, you each have The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 as well."

"Oh, wow," Harry said, stroking his hand across the spines. "This is great. Thanks, 'Mione!"

"How did you get these?" Fred asked, staring.

"Lockhart's books don't come cheap," George added.

"I made them," Hermione said proudly. "My summer internship is with the publishing company. Any books I made, I got to take. I made everybody copies."

The twins stared at her.

"You made them?" Fred repeated.

"Yes," Hermione said. "I was allowed to take any books I made on Copying Day, and I managed to make quite a few." She bit her lip, looking at the Weasleys worriedly. "Should I not have? I meant them as a gift. I was so excited to be able to make them…"

"Hermione, I think I speak for all of us when I say we are simply struck," Percy said, drawing himself up. He looked at her formally. "You made 70 galleons worth of books – for each of us. That is incredibly impressive magic, and incredibly generous. Believe me, you have our gratitude."

"Seventy galleons?" Ron repeated, his eyes wide.

"Lockhart's books don't come cheap," Fred repeated, his own eyes wide.

Ron looked touched despite himself.

"You are the nicest evil person I have ever met, Hermione," he declared. "I don't care how you snuck these out, only that you did. Ginny, if you ever need the help of someone evil, Hermione is the best Slytherin to go to, you hear me?"

"I didn't steal them!" Hermione objected. "I made them-!"

Mrs. Weasley's eyes were somewhat watery.

"This was very generous of you," she said, patting Hermione on the head. It was a bit awkward, as Hermione was taller than Mrs. Weasley, but she managed it all the same. "Very generous of you, Hermione. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She hadn't done it to help the Weasleys with their poverty – she'd just wanted to make the books and show off to her friends. "I was excited to be able to copy the books – it's really hard spell work, actually. You'll still all need to get whatever other books are on your lists…"

"I'm sure that will be no problem at all," Mrs. Weasley said. "Let's all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an couple hours?"

The schedule was quickly decided, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione strolled off, exploring the alley.

"Where to first?" Ron asked cheerfully. He seemed in a much better mood. Hermione wondered if it was because he had more galleons to spend on things he wanted, now. At least he was being nice to her for once.

"I have to get new robes," Hermione told them regretfully. "I outgrew my old ones, and my mum won't have me going around in clothes that don't fit right."

Harry looked down at his own robes. "Umm… I probably should too, actually." He winced.

They headed for Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Harry inquired about hems being taken down, and the shop matron scoffed at him.

"There are not hems to take down," she told him flatly. "I have never heard of such a stupid thing. You would be able to see a hem inside the robe, you poor boy."

She motioned them up onto the platforms, magical measuring tapes beginning to fly around.

"I'm lucky Bill and Percy are both tall," Ron said, watching Harry and Hermione. "I just get their uniform robes second-hand. No dealing with all this-" He gestured at the measuring tapes around them, "-every time I decide to grow another couple inches."

Hermione was surprised. "But what if your fashion style doesn't match theirs as you grow older?"

Ron stared at her, and Harry turned to stare at her also. Hermione winced.

"Right, sorry," she said. "Forgot. Boy fashion. Not in Slytherin. All that's needed are generic school robes. Sorry. Right. Carry on."

Hermione was pleased to find that Madam Malkin, though she did not believe in hems, did sell second-hand robes to those who could not afford new robes, and Hermione happily traded in her favorite green robes for a new, identical set made in her new measurements (as well as a few galleons to cover the difference).

"Can I just send you all my old robes?" Hermione begged. "And you send me identical versions of them all in my new measurements? I'll cover the difference, of course."

Madam Malkin rolled her eyes but acquiesced. "If you must." She paused, eyeing Hermione up and down. "You'll be needing all new robes soon enough, though. You'll be expected to wear more mature styles sooner rather than later."

Hermione colored. She didn't like being reminded of her puberty.

They left the robe shop and wandered the alley for a while, all enjoying ice cream cones as they explored, before finally heading to Flourish and Blotts. There were a lot of other people making their way toward the bookshop, and when they arrived, there was a large crowd jostling to get in. Hermione groaned, clapping a hand to her head.

"I forgot – there's a book signing of some sort today. Mr. Vitac warned me…"

As they got closer, they could see a giant banner stretched across the upper windows.

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

MAGICAL ME

today 12:30pm to 4:30pm

Incredibly, Hermione began laughing.

"Of course it'd be him," she wondered aloud. "I wonder if anyone is going to try to get all of the course books signed too? They'll be here for hours."

"Mum will," Ron said gloomily. "She loves Lockhart…"

Hermione, Harry, and Ron squeezed inside. A long line wound around right to the back of the shop, and Hermione balked.

"There are other books I want to look around for and buy," she told them. "I didn't bring my school books, anyway. If you all want to go and get yours autographed, I think I see Mrs. Weasley in line…?"

The boys parted ways with her, and Hermione climbed up to the second floor, quickly beginning to explore the bookstore. She could feel familiar tingles of excitement as she looked around.

This time, she knew what she was looking for.

Hermione grabbed what looked like the beginner textbooks for both Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, before making a beeline for the Ritual Magic section, tucked away in a shadowy corner of the shop. She was paging through Constructing Circles to see if it had anything new in it when she heard someone clear their throat.

"Why, fancy seeing you here, Miss Granger…" a familiar voice purred.

Hermione's head shot up. "Blaise!"

She grinned, and she had to stop herself short from throwing herself at him, only remembering at the last moment that as a rule, Slytherins generally didn't hug. From the smirk on Blaise's face, she didn't think she fooled him in the slightest, and the glint in his eye told her he wouldn't have minded a hug, either.

"Ritual Magic?" Blaise questioned. He raised an eyebrow. "What're you studying up on that for?"

"You never know when you might need it," Hermione said absently. "I've been reading about it. It's long and complicated, but some rituals can do some really powerful stuff, you know."

Blaise looked impressed.

"Well, count me in if you ever decide to form a coven," he told her. "With you running one, it'd be sure to be interesting, if nothing else."

He winked at her, and Hermione laughed, before stopping short, her eyes catching a flash of a familiar platinum blond.

"Blaise… is that Mr. Malfoy?"

A tall, blond man wearing a wizard hat and carrying a long black cane stood near Draco Malfoy near the top of the staircase. Draco was sneering over the railing at the spectacle going on below, while the tall man was looking at the books on the shelves.

"That's him," Blaise said, lowering his voice. "Lucius Malfoy himself…"

Hermione considered him carefully. Lucius Malfoy just looked like a snob. His nose was upturned slightly, so he was always looking down it, and she could see the extravagant expense of his robes and cane from rows away.

"I'm going to go over," Hermione declared.

Blaise gave her a sharp look. "Is that wise?"

"Probably not," Hermione admitted. "But I'm going to anyway."

Blaise sighed, but he followed her as she wound her way through the stacks.

Hermione kept her eyes sharp as she approached, weaving through the bookshelves to arrive next to Draco through them, so it didn't look quite like she'd made a beeline for him, but only found him by happenstance. Not that he would have noticed – Draco's eyes were fixed on the spectacle below.

"They're like animals," Hermione commented, moving to lean over the railing next to him. "All whipped up into a feeding frenzy."

Draco's eyes darted up to her, and his face split into a grin.

"Hermione," he said. His grin dimmed a bit a moment later. "Zabini."

"Draco," Blaise said pleasantly, his eyes glinting.

Draco held Blaise's gaze for a long moment, both of their eyes sharp. Hermione watched, puzzled, before they both broke away and looked down the stairs.

"I can't believe people are lining up to have that fop sign their books," Draco said.

"I can," Blaise commented. "The line is mostly witches. He's considered very attractive, you know."

Hermione scoffed. "Figures."

Blaise cast her a slanted glance. "Blond men not your thing, Hermione?"

Draco stiffened next to her. Hermione carefully kept her eyes on the scene below.

"Frauds and fools aren't my thing," Hermione said coolly. "Have you read any of his books? They're fiction, being passed off as true. I can't respect a person like that."

"I haven't gotten any of the school books yet, so no," Blaise said, smirking. "That's rather what I was here to do."

Draco smirked, and Hermione laughed.

"Fair enough," she conceded.

They watched the crowd for a moment, a photographer taking photos of Lockhart, causing big plumes of smoke each time. Hermione wondered what on earth was in his flash.

Movement on her left caused Hermione to look over to see Draco had stopped watching the crowds below - he was looking at her instead.

"You look nice today, Hermione," he said.

Hermione instantly felt suspicious. "Thank you…?"

"I like your crest," he said, gesturing to her front. "It goes well with your robes."

Oh…

"I like wearing it," Hermione admittedly softly. "I like showing my Slytherin pride. And it's beautiful."

Draco's eyes gleamed. Hermione watched, wondering. What did it mean in pureblood customs, she wondered, if a girl wore your gift of not-jewelry in public? It wasn't real jewelry, so obviously not the same thing, but even the not-jewelry jewelry gift seemed like it must mean something…

"Draco."

A sharp, commanding voice came from the left. Draco jerked, startled, and the three Slytherins turned.

Hermione was careful to keep her expression pleasantly neutral. She watched as Lucius' eyes flashed over them. Draco moved next to his father, turning to face them, his own expression carefully blasé, but his eyes looked worried.

"Mister Zabini," Lucius said, nodding to Blaise.

"Mister Malfoy." Blaise nodded back deeply, just short of a bow. He took a step forward, carefully assuming a casual position at her side. Hermione appreciated the silent support – by standing next to her, he was implying she was of equal status to him, or that he was her escort. Either was a quiet social statement, one she was sure the elder Malfoy would immediately grasp.

Lucius' eyes fell on Hermione, carefully evaluating her. Hermione was suddenly glad she'd traded in her too-short robes for longer ones – nothing she was wearing was something Lucius could fault her for.

"Draco," his father said suddenly, sharply.

Draco's eyes darted to his father. "What?"

"You have yet to introduce us," Hermione said pleasantly, her face betraying nothing of her nerves. Her eyes didn't move from the elder Malfoy's face.

Draco hesitated a moment.

"Father, this is Hermione Granger, a classmate of mine," he said, gesturing. "Hermione, my father, Lucius Malfoy."

"Pleased to meet you, Mister Malfoy." Hermione swept him the finest curtsy she could in the robes she was wearing. Lucius' eyebrows rose.

"A pleasure," he drawled. His lip curled. "Granger, is it?"

"It is," Hermione confirmed.

"Of the Dagworth-Grangers?" he asked.

"No, sir." Hermione didn't hesitate. "I am the first of my line."

Lucius gave his son a sharp look, and Hermione could see Draco restrain a wince.

"Hermione is a New Blood, father," Draco said quietly. "I spoke to you of her, before."

Lucius' eyes flashed back to her, before returning to Draco.

"You neglected to mention she was in Slytherin," he said. His voice was chillingly pleasant, and Draco flinched. Hermione felt a shiver over her skin.

"I said she was a classmate," Draco objected.

"All of the first years are your classmates," Lucius informed his son, his voice cold. Draco winced again but nodded.

Hermione watched as Lucius turned back to her, his eyes carefully evaluating.

"I am… surprised," Lucius Malfoy said, his lip curling, "to find one of Muggle parentage sorted into Slytherin."

"Perhaps it's because I'm New Blood, not Muggle-born," Hermione said, her tone perfectly even and polite.

He raised an eyebrow, looking down his nose at her.

"New Blood?" he said, his tone conveying his disgust.

"A spontaneous outcropping of Magic, blessed by the Fates," Blaise said suddenly. Hermione was surprised at his intervention, but incredibly grateful. "Hermione was not born of a squib line, like the Muggle-born are. She is destined for greatness, and to found a new House."

"Every great house was founded by a New Blood in the beginning," Draco added.

"There's no such thing." Lucius Malfoy said slowly, deliberately. His voice was cold and dismissive.

Hermione smiled sweetly. "Cantankerus Nott would disagree with you."

Lucius' eyes sharpened suddenly.

"Would he now?" he drawled.

Hermione allowed an enigmatic smile to drift about on her lips. She wasn't going to defend her place to him directly – such dramatics were not the Slytherin way. She needed to portray unflappable confidence in her place in the wizarding world. She couldn't allow Mr. Malfoy to shake her.

"I suppose," Lucius Malfoy said finally, "that we shall see."

That sounded vague and ominous. Hermione made a mental note to be careful of anything she touched that came from a Malfoy – she didn't know what would happen if she did touch anything meant to curse anyone not of pure blood.

There was a shout from below, and the crowd burst into applause. They all turned to look down at the crowd. Hermione's eyes were drawn to the front, where she could see Harry standing next to Lockhart, as a photographer capturing the moment.

Even from here, Hermione could see Harry's face burn in embarrassment.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!"

Hermione noticed Draco scowling down and drifting away, down the staircase. His father followed after him, both moving silently. She kept careful track of them, even as she watched Lockhart.

"—have the great pleasure in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd burst into applause, and Hermione gasped and looked to Blaise, horrified.

"He can't be serious," she said. "He can't be. He's a fraud."

"How many people know that, do you think?" Blaise said. He glanced at the size of the crowd. "It looks like not many."

Hermione groaned, clutching her hair and tugging it.

"We're going to learn nothing," she moaned. "Absolutely nothing this year."

"I bet we'll get excellent lessons on posing and smiling for the camera, though," Blaise commented, teasing, pulling a weak smile from Hermione.

"Yes, excellent, I'll pose and distract evil wizards with my winning smile to defeat them," Hermione said. "This is a brilliant idea."

"It'll be alright, Hermione," Blaise said. He looked at her. "I'm sure you'll teach yourself just fine to keep up with the material. And you can help the rest of us keep up too."

"It's not like there's a set curriculum for Defense, though," Hermione argued. "I'd have no guide to go off of."

"That just means you get to make it up," Blaise pointed out. He winked. "I daresay that's even better."

Hermione considered, then smiled. "I… suppose that's true."

She and Blaise made their way to the staircase, only to see Draco had run into Harry, who had fled from Lockhart as soon as he could. They were glaring at each other, Ginny glaring at Draco as well.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" Draco drawled, and Ron fought his way over to Harry and Ginny.

"Oh, it's you," Ron said, looking at Draco as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

Hermione had no idea why Ron would think Draco would think such a thing.

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all your school books."

Ron went red. Hermione couldn't blame him; she privately thought that was a much better retort than Ron's. Ron started toward Malfoy, but Harry grabbed the back of his jacket.

"Ron!" Mr. Weasley had come over, Fred and George behind him. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley."

Hermione watched as Mr. Malfoy joined Draco, sneering at the Weasleys.

"Lucius," Mr. Weasley said coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," Mr. Malfoy said. "All those raids… I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He pulled a second-hand copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration from Ginny's cauldron. It looked extremely battered, and Hermione felt a pang of sympathy for poor Ginny, whose face burned scarlet with embarrassment.

"Obviously not…" Mr. Malfoy drawled.

"What's going on there?" Hermione hissed to Blaise. "I know Draco and Ron hate each other, but their parents, too?"

Blaise shrugged, watching the scene too.

"Might be because the Weasleys are considered blood traitors?" he guessed. "This sounds more personal, though. I wonder if there's some kind of ancient feud."

There was a yell, and Hermione's eyes darted back to see Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him into the bookshelf, dozens of heavy spellbooks thundering down on them all. Someone was cheering him on, someone else was shrieking, the crowd was stampeding backwards, an assistant struggling towards them, begging them to stop.

"Merlin," Hermione breathed, watching. "Did he really…?"

"That's Gryffindors for you," Blaise said. His nose was wrinkled in disgust. "No class or subtlety at all."

Hermione had to agree with him. Brawling in a book shop...? It was practically barbaric.

They watched as Hagrid pulled the two men apart. Both of them looked like they'd taken some damage. Mr. Malfoy thrust Ginny's book back at her, leaving with a sharp remark as he and Draco swept from the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," Hagrid was saying. Hermione watched as Mrs. Weasley gathered her children up, bustling them out the door.

"Wait!" Harry exclaimed. "We've forgotten Hermione!"

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Hermione heard Ron dismiss, but she was pleased to see Harry fight his way back inside, eyes darting around.

Hermione descended the stairs. "Harry."

Harry's eyes met hers with relief. "Hermione!"

"You okay?" she asked, looking him over. "I saw the fight with Mr. Malfoy."

"Yeah, I'm okay," Harry said. "It was mostly just Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy. Though Ron wanted to punch Malfoy pretty badly."

"We could tell." Hermione glanced back at Blaise, descending the staircase behind her. Harry looked to him, then looked to Hermione in confusion. Hermione's mind raced.

"Ah… Harry, this is Blaise Zabini, my classmate in Slytherin," she told him. "Blaise, may I present Harry Potter?"

"Harry Potter? In the flesh?" Blaise drawled. His eyes flicked up to Harry's scar. "I would have never known."

Hermione scowled. "Don't be a twit."

"You're a friend of Hermione's?" Harry looked cautious. "I didn't think she had many friends in Slytherin."

Blaise suddenly looked guarded. "Some of the Slytherins might look down on Hermione for her blood status, but it's none of her year anymore."

"Except for Pansy," Hermione said, making a face.

Blaise acknowledged her remark with a reluctant nod of his head. "Except for Pansy."

"But what about the bullying?" Harry asked frowning.

Blaise looked to Hermione sharply. "Bullying?"

Hermione kept her face carefully even.

"When Pansy and the others bullied her," Harry said. At a dark look from Hermione, Harry paused. "Hermione told us it was pretty bad," he continued, more carefully, and Hermione let out a breath of relief that he'd remembered his promise to not mention the torture bit. "I didn't think she had any friends in Slytherin – if she had, I'd've thought they would have stopped it."

"Hermione told you it was bad?" Blaise asked carefully. "Or Hermione told you what happened, and you thought that was pretty bad?"

Harry frowned. Hermione doubted he fully grasped the nuance of what Blaise was asking.

"Hermione said it was bad," Harry stressed. "She wouldn't say exactly what happened, but she said it was bad. She started hanging around with us more. She wanted to avoid the Slytherin common room."

Hermione bit her lip, hard. Blaise's eyes slid to her sideways.

"I didn't realize Hermione had been bullied beyond the ignorant remarks some of the cruder Slytherins make," Blaise said finally, "but I consider Hermione my friend."

"Would you protect her?" Harry asked challengingly.

"Harry!" Hermione objected. "I do not need—"

"Would you?" Harry said again, ignoring Hermione. His eyes held Blaise's. "If it happened again, would you protect her? Would you put a stop to it?"

The statement hung heavy in the air, and Hermione winced. Harry had no idea what he was asking, she knew. To formally ask a pureblood if someone was under their protection…

"I would."

Hermione's mouth dropped open, her eyes darting to Blaise, but he was looking solidly at Harry.

"I would offer her my protection, and I would never knowingly hurt her."

The formality of the words rang in the air. Hermione was reeling, her mind racing, while Harry looked mildly confused.

"That's… that's good," Harry said finally. He stuck out his hand. "Any friend of Hermione's is a friend of mine."

Hermione watched in astonishment as Blaise regarded Harry carefully for a long moment, before grinning.

"Well met, Potter," he said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. "Friends, then."

They broke apart. Harry seemed satisfied, and Blaise seemed darkly amused.

"Harry!"

Mr. Weasley was waving impatiently from the entrance, looking out over the crowds. Harry winced.

"I've got to go. I'll see you at school, 'Mione?" he said hurriedly. "Bye!"

"See you, Harry!" she called after him, watching as Harry fought his way through the crowds and vanished.

"So…"

Hermione looked over at Blaise, who was giving her a long, slow look.

"When are your parents expecting you back?" Blaise asked pleasantly.

Hermione shrugged. "By nightfall?"

"Excellent," Blaise said. "Walk with me? I still have some things to get." He gave her a look. "And we have a lot to talk about."

The formal words of Blaise's promise still rang heavy in Hermione's ears, and she gave him a measuring look.

"I suppose that we do."