The morning before classes Hermione and Draco walked into the Great Hall together. They were both early risers, so there weren't many other students up and about then. Hermione surreptitiously glanced around and slid into the seat across from her friend, wondering if she was perhaps breaking a rule by sitting at the table of a house other than her own. When no one looked askance at the pair, she let out a breath and began to fill her plate.

"We've only Herbology together on Wednesday," Draco winged as he studied their timetables.

Hermione shrugged. "We'll just meet every day after classes. Besides, we'll get to choose classes in our third year, and we can choose the same ones; if they're small enough, all the houses are taught together."

The boy wrinkled his nose. "That's two years away though!"

"Is it? I wasn't aware."

She looked from her eggs when Draco sighed and slumped into his seat. "I'd have been better off in Slytherin. It's where the hat wanted to send me, you know. We'd have more classes together and father wouldn't disown me."

"Lord Lucius won't disown you, Draco. You're his only heir and he loves you besides." Hermione considered him, her warm eyes roving her friend. "How did you get put into Hufflepuff?"

His face burned red and he mumbled, "I don't want to talk about it."

"It's alright, you know," she told him. "Hufflepuff is an upstanding house. It's also closest to the kitchens, so you can more easily get sweets."

The corners of his mouth tugged upward despite himself. "I do like sweets. Though mother promised to send chocolate throughout the year. I made her promise enough for you too."

"You're always so kind to me," she said, returning his smile with a bright one of her own. "Generosity of spirit is a trait valued by Hufflepuffs, you know."

Draco sneered at her. "I'm generous with you. Only because otherwise you'd be insufferable. So it's really selfish."

"Prat." She gently kicked at his foot and his sneer became a grin.

The two of them were eating and discussing possibilities for their first few lessons when owl post came. There was a small package for Draco that Hermione had no doubt was from Narcissa. The boy plucked the small envelope from the top, breaking the seal and immediately reading. He didn't notice the other letter with his name. Hermione had a twin of it, the same purple ink in the same pleasant writing.

She opened it curiously to find Hogwarts stationary and a short missive.

Ms. Granger,

I would be obliged should you and Mr. Malfoy come to my office after classes this evening. You should have time between that and dinner. I will not require much of your time.

Regards,

Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore

Deputy Headmaster

"What's that?" Draco had paused in his picking through the package to ask.

"You've one too. Why not read it?"

He rolled his eyes but pushed a few chocolates her way. "Those all have those weird fillings you like." She eyed the brightly wrapped candies, smiling and sorting through them as Draco read his own note.

"What do you suppose he wants?"

"I don't know- Draco!" He paused right as he was about to plop a small truffle into his mouth. "You can't eat chocolate during breakfast."

"Who's going to stop me?" He retorted.

"I'll tell your mother. That's ghastly."

He giggled in a decidedly undignified way. "You'll tell mother on me? Really? What'll she do, tell you not to have dessert for a month?"

She snorted, shaking her head. "Don't blame me when you develop cavities," Hermione sang.

The pair of them walked out of the Great Hall bumping shoulders and still laughing as they sought the staircases where they would part ways, one going up and the other headed into the dungeons.

Hermione entered the Potions classroom and took a seat up front, pulling her textbook and parchment out before setting her inkwell in one corner, deftly holding the quill she'd prepared this morning. She was nervous, stomach tumbling as she tried to ignore the tingling sensation that she was doing something wrong. She wished Draco had gotten into Gryffindor or that she'd been sorted after him, because she was sure she could have talked her way into whatever house he got into (so long as it wasn't Slytherin).

If only they'd known beforehand, they could have figured it out together.

There was no use fretting over it now, so she dated the top of her paper and waited for the professor to arrive, seats around her slowly filling with fellow first years.

She was frowning at the board before them when the door opened with bang, commanding words following as every student turned to watch the thin, sallow man with lank black hair striding through the room. "There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making." As he stood before the lectern, her stomach flipped in fear. He had black eyes and a stern face as he gazed out over them. "For the precious few who possess the predisposition... I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."

Hermione was captivated. She held her quill poised above her inkwell, stopped in midmotion as she went to ink it by this man's

"Then again, given the innate cockiness some of you have no doubt been born into…" Those dark eyes flickered over to one of her classmates, a rather runty boy with dark hair and green eyes. "My expectations are not high."

Despite the professor's clear irritation with teaching students in general, Hermione squirmed in her seat, eager to begin. There was something about Professor Snape that made her certain she would learn much in his classes.

They sat together at lunch, though another Gryffindor had called after her, "Oi! Way to show house loyalty, Granger!"

She rolled her eyes at that. "Weasley doesn't like me because I've actually read our books and know something," she informed Draco in that tone he associated with Hermione in the classroom.

"Has he called you a know-it-all yet?" Draco asked.

"Yet?"

"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll get around to it eventually. Let me know and I'll jinx him for you."

Hermione huffed, but didn't respond that. Instead she cut to what she wanted to know. "Tell me all about Transfiguration."

Draco pulled a plate of rolls to himself. "The professor is an animagus. She seems fairly stern."

"An animagus, really? How do you know?"

He smirked. "She was a cat when we all came in."

Her eyes grew round as saucers. "You saw her transform? What was it like?"

"Er, fast? She leapt off her desk a cat and landed a woman." Draco shrugged.

"It would be too much to ask you to pay attention to something so interest," she said with a sigh. "What do you have next?"

Draco consulted his timetable as though he hadn't memorized it already. "Potions. And you?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. Watch out in Potions; Professor Snape seems brilliant, but I think he might play favorites. And he's rather, erm, prickly." She tapped her cheek, considering. "I wonder how the professor for Defense will be."

"That's Riddle, isn't it?" he said.

"Professor Riddle, Draco," she corrected, the boy rolling his eyes in response. "And yes. I feel like I've heard that name before."

"I've heard he's brilliant."

A tremor of eagerness fluttered through her. Hermione had read and heard that Hogwarts was the best magical institution in the world. Everyone seemed to think so, except for Lord Lucius. He'd wanted to send Draco to Durmstrang, which didn't take muggleborns. Narcissa had asked what he planned to do with his son's companion and Lucius had retorted that she could stay home or perhaps go with Draco as a servant. Narcissa had put her foot down, so that was that.

Lady Cissa rarely insisted upon anything her husband might disagree with and Lucius knew to pick his battles when she did.

"I suppose we should get going then," Hermione said at last. "It's a bit of a trek into the dungeons." As before, the pair walked toward the stairs together before parting ways. "I'll meet you outside Professor Dumbledore's office?"

"Of course."

Hermione turned after watching her companion head down the stairs, climbing her way toward DADA.

This room was the antithesis of the dungeon with its airy windows and clean, neat walls. Hermione was, of course, the first student in the room. However, someone else was present when she entered.

She took one look at him and her face flushed crimson. There was no way this was Professor Riddle. She'd pictured someone older, someone with grey hair peppered in at the very least, with a beard like many wizards were wont to have after a certain age. If she were being honest, she'd imagined someone much more like Professor Dumbledore.

Professor Riddle wasn't young exactly, but neither was he old. Thinking on it, she couldn't decide what his age might be. Thirty? Forty? As a wizard, he could even be sixty and she would be none the wiser. He was tall, around the same height as Lord Lucius, who quite enjoyed being able to frown down at everyone he encountered; he was slimmer than her lord, though his shoulders still had breadth that spoke of strength and balanced out his height. However impressive his stature, it was his face that had caused her reaction.

His eyes were so dark the color was indiscernible from her distance, lined with thick lashes and accented with perfectly arched black brows. His hair was the same shade, neatly styled curls that felt onto his forehead in way she was sure had to be purposeful. A patrician nose and well-defined lips completed the features. He was almost too beautiful with his square jaw and the sharp angle of his cheekbones somehow reminiscent of a statue.

He stood there facing her in his white button-down, black slacks and open robe and Hermione suddenly realized he'd spoken to her.

Her cheeks colored again; she had never actually gaped at someone's appearance before. It was embarrassing. What had he said? Ah yes.

"You're a bit early, aren't you? You must be an eager pupil then, Miss…?"

"Granger," she murmured. "Please excuse my, er, delayed response. Hermione Granger."

He smiled and the expression was every bit as breath-taking as one would imagine. "It's quite alright, Miss Granger. I have that effect on some." Rather than seeming arrogant, the statement was disarming, almost bashful as he shared the knowledge of his own beauty. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I'm Tom Riddle, professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I should hope so. Otherwise I'm in the wrong room!" Hermione flushed again. "I'm sorry, you must think me terribly rude. I didn't mean to—"

Tom Riddle chuckled and silenced her with a raised palm. "Not at all. It's charming to hear a student young as yourself show such wit. Most first years are terrified their first few weeks." He leaned against his desk and studied her as she went through the same ritual as she had in Potions; textbook and parchment side-by-side on the desk (former left justified and latter right), inkwell at right top corner, quill. She dated the top of the parchment and added the subject for good measure. "Granger. Any relation to the legendary potioneer, Hector Dagworth-Granger?"

"Oh, no." She shook her head, glad that she had taken the extra time to tame her curls this morning. "Not that I know of. Probably not. I'm, er, muggleborn." She blushed once more, gaze down on her neat print.

"I see." His tone did not belie his opinions on the matter of blood, so she changed a glance up to see him studying her. "You're not an Institution muggleborn though, are you?"

"How can you tell?"

Once more he laughed, and she wondered how he did it without seeming to poke fun at her. "Your belongings are much too fine to come from a government run facility. Dragonhide satchel, quality parchment, not to mention the potion you use for your hair. You've been taken in." Those dark eyes were weighing her carefully and she felt unbalanced under them. "Not adopted. Fostered?"

"I'm Draco Malfoy's companion," Hermione said.

Riddle's brows rose at that. "Lucius Malfoy is raising a muggleborn?"

Was she mistaken or had there been the slightest hesitation before that last word? Hermione pushed back the thought. "It's for Draco. Lord Lucius doesn't particularly care for those of my blood status, I know, but he and Lady Narcissa decided that it would be best to bring in someone like me for, for Draco's sake."

"Yes, I think I have heard of a few Pureblood families partaking in the practice."

Hermione didn't like discussing the nature of her being with the Malfoy family, so she was relieved when other students suddenly flooded into the classroom and Professor Riddle's attention was diverted from her. She wrung her hands beneath the desk, wishing once more Draco were there; when they were together, she didn't feel as much like she didn't belong.

"Ah, Mister Malfoy, Miss Granger. Please come in." Albus Dumbledore gestured for the children to sit at two plush chairs in front of his desk, a kindly smile on his face. "Lemon drop?" he offered, extending the candy bowl.

Feeling it would be rude to decline (especially as Draco eagerly partook), Hermione took one of the little yellow candies. "Thank you, sir."

"Now, I hope your first day at Hogwarts has gone well?"

"Tremendously!" Hermione said before she could stop herself. "That is…" Draco grinned at her embarrassment. "Yes, thank you."

"Yes, sir," the boy added.

"Good, good." His brilliant blue eyes looked between them. "Do you know why I've asked to see the two of you?"

They chorused, "No sir."

The old man hummed to himself contemplatively. "The two of you have a unique relationship," he began. "I am aware that your family, Mister Malfoy, took in Miss Granger some years ago." At their nods, the professor continued. "I've been informed that when you commit a transgression, Mr. Malfoy, you, Miss Granger, are the one who receives penance?"

Draco immediately took her hand in his.

"Yes," she said quietly, squeezing back the boy's hand in gratitude for the comfort.

Something seemed to soften on the man's face as he took in the action. "That is not the way of things at Hogwarts. Here, the one who does the act receives punishment. Usually it is in the form of detention or restriction of a sort. We have not engaged in corporal punishment for some time. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," said Hermione as Draco said, "Perfect, sir."

"And that will not be a problem for you? Either of you?"

Hermione looked to Draco, who emphatically shook his head. "Not at all," said the boy.

"Good. I know that out in the world there are many who believe blood status is part of the measure of a witch or wizard. You will find that Hogwarts prefers to give its students all equal consideration." At their nods of understanding, he smiled. "I'm glad we could have this moment to chat. Please come to me if there is anything you should need, both of you."

They thanked the professor and bade him good evening.

As they walked down the corridor, the locked gazes and smiled.

"Equals?" Hermione questioned.

"Equals," agreed Draco, squeezing his hand around hers.