A pregnant silence permeated the stands, the crowd staring, every set of eyes wide and every mouth agape. No one had predicted this result. No one. And then a single student began to clap, then another, another. Pockets of students cried out amid the multitude.

Hermione was the first in her friend groups, though Ron's sister Ginny soon joined in. The red head elbowed her brother and finally the boys picked up the cheer.

In front of the now-roaring crowd stood Fleur Delacour, the Triwizard Cup in-hand. While she had been at the rear of the Champions, the one who ahead need assistance to get through the second task, she had seemingly floated through the maze that covered the Quidditch field. Clever enough that the Sphinx's riddle didn't have her, confident in spelling away the boggart, all the while the two male Champions had been distracted by trying to figure out how to get ahead of the other. While they had worked to waylaying one another, neither had given a thought for the Veela-esque girl herself.

"So does this mean she wins?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Ronald. This means she wins. Didn't you pay attention to the announcements before the task began?" He didn't respond. If anything, he seemed rather put off that the girl had won over his fellow Hogwarts student and a Quidditch superstar.

Cedric was second out of the maze, but Viktor was a close third. When Hermione was finally allowed to join him, he was muttering something about the Sphinx. She gathered that the riddle he'd been given was based on wordplay. As a non-native English speaker, he felt he'd been at a disadvantage.

However, he did not want to complain since Fleur was also not a native English speaker and she had managed well enough. "If it were between me and the Hufflepuff, perhaps it would haff made a difference. But Fleur, she is far more clever than both of us."

It was a fair admission, and Cedric probably would have wanted a just adjudication in such a situation.

The next few days were a flurry of finishing up schoolwork and repairing for the end of term, all the while trying to spend time with new friends. Hermione and Viktor promised to exchange letters until they could meet again, and they shared a few stolen kisses before he finally had to sail away.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin, a hand flying to her chest in relief as she recognized the smooth voice of her favorite professor. "Professor Riddle, you startled me."

"My apologies, sweetheart, it wasn't my intent." She blushed both at the endearment and his smile that showed just a hint of the perfect teeth beneath. "I just wanted to wish you well before you leave for the summer. And, of course, let you know to expect some correspondence in regards to our little project."

Her eyes shone at that, all teenage self-consciousness forgotten in the face of academic pursuits. "Oh, yes! I'm so very excited for that. I've already drawn up drafts for the club charter, pending your revisions of course, and have a list of proposed rules and restrictions based upon past clubs of a similar nature- particularly previous dueling clubs. Will there be dueling, professor? I know it is a Defense-"

Warm laughter like chocolate down her throat interrupted the verbal stream from the girl and her face burned hot once again. "Hermione, Hermione, if you keep up like this, you'll miss the train." Riddle laid a hand on her shoulder, and that part of her anatomy nearly sang at the contact. "I'm sure you have it well in-hand. I gave Horace the proposal earlier- or tried to, at any rate- and he's already approved it."

She beamed up at him, clapping her hands together excitedly. "I'm so happy to hear that! When will the first meeting be?"

"We will talk about that over the summer, or perhaps when you come back after summer hols." He tipped his head, an errant curl dropping over his forehead. "I daresay you'll have plenty to think about when you return next year, hmm?" His dark blue eyes twinkled knowingly. "Are you sure you aren't biting off more than you can chew?"

"Professor, I hardly think assisting you will put me over my limit, even with studying for my O.W.L.s"

"You don't think that's all the additional responsibility you'll have surely?" His thumb stroked the length of her collarbone. "It is your fifth year, after all. And you're an exemplary student in every way."

The words settled heavily in Hermione's chest, a pleasant, heady weight. "Oh." She suddenly found herself unable to meet his eyes, staring instead at his starched white button-up shirt. "Well, books and cleverness. There are more important things- bravery and- and-"

"Ah, yes, always the good little Gryffindor." He tipped her chin up so she would meet his gaze again. "I'll put some ambition in you yet, Miss Granger. Bring out your inner Slytherin. Now get going; you'll be hearing from me soon."

She was already halfway to the common room before she realized Professor Riddle had revealed his own house-leanings. He always strived to be so fair that she'd wondered if he'd been a Hufflepuff. Common rumor was that he'd been a Ravenclaw. But a Slytherin? Then again, he'd worn silver and green with his dress robes at the Yule ball.

She pondered her dealings with Professor Riddle, wondering if she was reading too deeply into his words, all while gathering her things to meet with Ron and Harry in the common room. Draco was waiting for them just outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, though he'd had to come up all the way from the Hufflepuff dorms and they were just going back down again. Usually she would have lectured him on wasting time, but now her brows were knit and she was distracted. While her two Gryffindor mates hadn't noticed, Draco did.

"What's got you all in your head, 'Mione?" He bumped her shoulder with his arm (his own shoulder now well above hers thanks to growth spurts that made his bones ache).

"Hm?" She allowed the boys to help her with her trunk as they loaded into the train and found their own compartment. "Oh, just a conversation I was having with Professor Riddle before leaving the castle." She settled by the window and blinked out at Hogsmeade before turning to him. "Did you know Professor Riddle was in Slytherin as a student?"

Draco frowned, clearly not expecting that question. "What? Er, yeah, I think Father mentioned it before."

Hermione drummed her fingers again her skirt. "He doesn't seem like much of Slytherin. He's never treated me differently."

Across from her Harry laughed. "He treats you differently alright, Mione. But not because you're muggleborn."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're his favorite, bloody know-it-all." Ron's smile took the edge off his words.

"I'm not his favorite," she insisted, though butterflies batted their wings in her stomach and she was secretly pleased that even Ronald had noticed how Professor Riddled liked her.

The boys all started joking at her denial, and that turned into talk about teachers' pets in general. Somehow, despite not even taking his class, Professor Dumbledore adored Harry. Professor Snape liked exactly noone, though he seemed to hate Slytherins slightly less than Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors significantly more. Harry's parents had gone to school around the same time and his godfather and Snape had loathed one another.

"Mum felt kinda bad for him though, so she begged Sirius to leave off him," said Harry between bites of chocolate frog.

"With that nose, anyone would feel bad," Ron mumbled.

She tutted. "Seriously, Ronald, his nose isn't that long. Why did she feel bad for him?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. "He was, well, a bit out of place. Apparently he was poor and everything he owned was secondhand. And he's not a pureblood, which is almost asking for trouble as a Slytherin."

"Is he a halfblood then?" She hadn't known, though she'd never heard of a wizarding family by the name of Snape.

"Must be. Muggleborns are rather rare in Slytherin from what I understand," Draco remarked. "I can't actually think of any offhand. And I am definitely not going to ask Father to expand on that topic."

Hermione cringed at the thought, though another soon followed on its tail. "What about Professor Riddle? I don't think he's a pureblood."

"Must be; I've never met another Riddle." Draco rubbed at the faint fuzz on his chin. "I don't have the faintest what his blood status is, but he's rather well respected even amongst Slytherins." He sighed and shook his head. "It looks as though we are coming into Kings Cross, so…" He trailed off, but they all knew what he meant. Discussing blood status, particularly in a group of mixed status, was not polite, though they were all friends.

"Right." Harry nodded and stood, leading their group as per his usual, and they trudged out much the same as they'd come in.

Mister and Missus Potter were the nearest parents to them with Harry's sister trying hide from the noise and crowding, and they greeted the children eagerly. "Hermione, dear, you're absolutely blossoming!" was Lily Potter's hello to the girl. The fellow muggleborn was everything she aspired to be- clever enough that many called her the exception to the rule (as though blood status meant anything about intelligence), particularly skilled in charms and potions, warm, and undoubtedly beautiful.

Hermione shrugged uncomfortably. "Thank you, Mrs. Potter, but it's all Lady Cissa's doing…"

"Hardly, dear. Oh, and there's Molly!"

Molly Weasley was busy herding the twins while looking over people's heads as best she could to find Ginny. "Ronald Weasley," she cried out over the hubbub. "There you are. Why you children can't all arrange to stay together on the platform, I don't know. Oh, hello Harry, dear. And Hermione, of course. Draco, you've sprouted another foot, I swear!"

The Weasley matriarch always somehow included everyone. She was soon swept up in chatter with her fellow redhead about how exciting next year would be with Violet finally joining her older brother. Harry puffed up when he overheard something about him looking after her.

"Draco, stop lollygagging."

It was instinct that had Hermione jumping this time. She knew that voice, that tone, and had heard her companion's name said that way enough times that she was instantly on edge, teetering onto her toes to find Lucius Malfoy staring over at them in annoyance.

He never came to gather them from the station. Hermione roped an arm through Draco's and pulled him along toward his father, eyes already downcast and demure.

"You should know better than to crowd the platform. Do you have everything?" He surveyed the pair and Hermione could practically feel his gaze roving over her disapprovingly despite not having acknowledged her. "Good, come along."

They hurried toward the apparition point after exchanging a glance behind Lucius' back. The man laid a hand on one shoulder each, and the tug behind her navel announced their travel to her. With a jerk and a lurch, they landed outside the gates of Malfoy Manor.

Home.

It did not feel like a homecoming.