Mondays were the bane of Hermione Granger's existence. Detention on Mondays, however, was a special kind of torture. Spending her time with a group of delinquents who made her life miserable was not her idea of a pleasant start to the week. She sighed and glanced at her new schedule, which she had picked up at breakfast in the Great Hall. Her classes remained unchanged, except for the addition of three detention periods after her last class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays in the morning. She appreciated Professor McGonagall for not interfering with her studies, but it still felt unfair to be a part of this ridiculous program.

As she ate her breakfast of toast and pumpkin juice, Hermione couldn't help but wonder what the other students had done to deserve this punishment. She assumed they had committed something illegal or immoral, given their reputation.

Finishing her meal, she made her way to her final class of the day: N.E.W.T level Potions with Professor Snape, who also taught N.E.W.T only Defense Against the Dark Arts. Another professor taught the Ordinary level classes, but Hermione found herself more interested in learning advanced spells and potions from Snape. Surprisingly, he was a decent teacher when he wasn't being a snarky git. His classes were challenging and demanding, but Hermione relished a good challenge.

Entering the dungeon classroom, she took her usual seat next to her best friend and fellow Gryffindor prefect, Neville Longbottom. They exchanged smiles and shared some notes on their homework. Hermione couldn't help but notice Neville's nervous and pale demeanor, as he always had before Potions. She squeezed his hand reassuringly and whispered, "Don't worry, you'll do fine. You've improved a lot since last year." Neville weakly smiled and thanked her. Although he was now dating Luna Lovegood, a lovely girl who made him happy, he still struggled with his confidence and self-esteem. Hermione wished she could do more to help him.

Preparing for the day's lesson on brewing a Shrinking Solution, Hermione opened her textbook and gathered her ingredients. It was a relatively simple potion that temporarily reduced the drinker's size, but it required precise measurements and timing. She had confidence in her ability to brew it perfectly, as she had done in the past. Her only concern was whether Neville could follow her instructions accurately and avoid any mishaps.

Glancing around the classroom, Hermione noticed that it was mostly filled with Slytherins who were also taking N.E.W.T level Potions. Some of them were familiar faces from her detention group: Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Michael Corner. The last one was a Ravenclaw who had briefly dated Ginny Weasley in their fifth year before breaking up with her after Gryffindor lost the Quidditch Cup to Slytherin. Now, he seemed to be showing interest in Pansy Parkinson, who appeared to enjoy his attention. Hermione felt a mix of disgust and pity for the two of them.

Refusing to be distracted by their antics, Hermione focused on her work as Snape entered the room and began his lecture. He explained the theory and practice of brewing Shrinking Solutions, providing examples of their uses and effects. He emphasized the dangers of over- or under-dosing and the importance of following instructions meticulously. Afterward, he instructed the class to begin their work and circulated around the room to supervise their progress.

Diligently following the steps outlined in her textbook, Hermione chopped, weighed, stirred, heated, and added ingredients in the correct order and amounts. She frequently checked her watch to ensure she stayed on track.

She occasionally glanced at Neville's cauldron to check on his progress. He seemed to be following her lead adequately, but his tense and sweaty appearance indicated his nervousness.

Whenever possible, Hermione whispered words of encouragement to Neville.

Finishing her potion in under an hour, she checked its color and consistency. The result was a clear lavender liquid with a faint minty aroma. A proud smile appeared on her face as she poured a small sample into a vial, labeled it with her name, and placed it on Snape's desk.

Returning to her seat, Hermione patiently waited for Neville to finish his potion. He was almost done but seemed uncertain about the last ingredient: a rat spleen. Hesitantly, he held it in his hand and sought guidance from Hermione.

Nodding reassuringly, Hermione silently mouthed, "Just add it." Neville nodded back nervously and dropped the rat spleen into his cauldron.

Expecting nothing to happen, Neville was proven correct. His potion turned out fine, just like Hermione's. He carefully poured a sample into a vial, labeled it with his name, and placed it next to Hermione's on Snape's desk.

Returning to their seats, Neville gratefully smiled at Hermione.

After packing their belongings, they patiently waited for Snape to dismiss them.

Snape meticulously collected all the potion samples from his desk, examining them one by one. Most of them received satisfactory grades, except for a few that were either too weak, too strong, or had the wrong color or smell. As expected, Hermione's potion earned an Outstanding grade. To Neville's surprise, his potion received an Exceeds Expectations grade, a significant improvement for him.

Loudly announcing their grades, Snape returned their vials and dismissed them with a curt nod.

As they left the classroom, Hermione congratulated Neville on his grade. "That was brilliant."

Modestly blushing, Neville replied, "Thanks, Hermione. Do you mind if I meet you for detention? I promised Luna I'd walk with her to the library."

Hermione nodded sadly, feeling a mix of excitement and bitterness from the mere thought of walking with someone she had feelings for. "Of course. I'll see you soon."

They went their separate ways, with Hermione heading towards the first floor. A sense of dread enveloped her as she approached the detention chamber where Filch was waiting for them.

To her dismay, she was the first and only one there.

Mondays were truly the worst.

Upon entering the detention chamber, Hermione observed the large and gloomy room with its stone walls and iron bars. Several desks and chairs were arranged in a circle, each adorned with a black jumpsuit. In one corner stood a foreboding wooden cabinet, housing Filch's instruments of torture.

An involuntary shudder ran down Hermione's spine as she recalled her last visit to this room in her second year. It was when she, Harry, and Ron were caught by Filch after flying a car to Hogwarts. At the time, Filch had threatened them with thumbscrews before Professor Lockhart intervened and saved them, albeit for a photo session in his office.

Hermione desperately hoped there would be no such interruptions this time. She wanted to get through this detention as quickly as possible.

Approaching one of the desks, she picked up a black jumpsuit. The fabric felt thick and rough, featuring a front zipper and side pockets. Adorned with a silver badge reading "Hogwarts Detention Program," it resembled something a prisoner would wear.

Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Hermione placed the jumpsuit back on the desk, deciding to wait for Filch's instructions before changing.

As Hermione looked around the room, she realized that she was the first one to arrive. Curiosity lingered as she wondered where the others were, particularly Neville and Luna. Hoping that Neville would handle Luna's eccentricity and unpredictability well, she worried that their relationship might cause him to lose touch with reality.

Another concern nagged at her—how did Neville feel about being in detention with her? While she knew he was loyal and supportive, she also knew that he despised conflict and violence. Hermione fervently hoped that her presence wouldn't land him in trouble.

Taking a seat on one of the chairs, she patiently waited for the others to arrive.

It didn't take long before she heard footsteps approaching the door. Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott entered the room, clad in their Slytherin uniforms with green ties and silver badges. Their characteristic smug and arrogant expressions adorned their faces.

Draco's voice dripped with condescension as he drawled, "Look who's here. The Gryffindor princess herself."

Theo chuckled in agreement, adding, "What are you doing here, Granger? Did you finally lose your temper and hex someone?"

Choosing to ignore their taunts, Hermione averted her gaze, unwilling to waste her energy on them.

Draco and Theo sauntered over to their desks, where they discovered the black jumpsuits. An expression of disdain etched itself onto their faces as they examined the garments.

"What are these?" Theo inquired.

"I guess they're our new uniforms." Draco nonchalantly shrugged.

"They look like rubbish." Theo snorted derisively.

"They certainly do." Draco nodded giving the fabric a final inspection before they both discarded the jumpsuits onto their desks, settled into their chairs and directed their sneers towards Hermione once more.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Theo prodded, "So, are you going to tell us why you're here? Or are you too ashamed to admit it?"

Hermione's jaw clenched as she glared at him. "I'm here because I'm part of this program," she curtly replied.

Draco raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of recognition shining in his eyes, indicating that their encounter from the previous night was still fresh in his memory. His demeanor appeared more brooding today, as if he wanted to keep his distance and avoid causing her any further trouble.

But that's impossible. It's Draco Malfoy.

"Really?" Theo prodded, unable to resist. "And what did you do to get into this program?"

Hermione bit her lip, avoiding eye contact. "That's none of your business."

"Oh, come on, Granger. Don't be shy. We're all friends here," Theo taunted.

Anger and embarrassment flushed Hermione's face. She wished he would just leave her alone. Moreover, she wished she could erase the events of the previous night from her mind. She had anticipated Draco mocking her, reporting her, or even hexing her. She had braced herself for a confrontation.

Yet, he had done none of those things.

Instead, he had looked at her with an inexplicable expression.

Shaking her head, she resolved not to dwell on Draco Malfoy. She convinced herself that he was merely toying with her, attempting to get under her skin and manipulate her. He didn't genuinely care about her or what he had done for her. There couldn't be any real feelings involved.

Hermione's fatigue and stress weighed heavily on her as she sat in the room, longing for the presence of her friends Harry, Ron, and Ginny. She hoped that this detention wouldn't exacerbate her anxiety or make her feel more isolated.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps outside the door. Looking up, she saw Pansy Parkinson and Michael Corner entering the room. Pansy, with her characteristic annoyance and a lollipop in her mouth, immediately rolled her eyes at Hermione's presence.

Michael quickly acknowledged Hermione with a brief greeting, "Hermione."

Before Hermione could respond, Pansy interjected with her usual snark, "Did you finally crack under the pressure of being perfect?"

Ignoring the jibe, Hermione averted her gaze, refusing to engage with Pansy.

Pansy and Michael made their way to their respective desks, examining the black suits with varying reactions. Pansy, with disdain, expressed her preference for the previous smocks, while Michael found them tolerable.

As Pansy settled onto her desk, she once again directed her attention towards Hermione. "So," Pansy taunted, "are you going to answer my question, Granger?"

Hermione clenched her jaw even harder this time, avoiding eye contact. Theo's taunting had already been enough, and now Pansy was taking up the baton, being just as obnoxious and cruel.

Her response curt and direct, Hermione repeated, "I'm here because I'm part of this program."

Soon after, Neville Longbottom entered the room, wearing his Gryffindor uniform with a nervous and apologetic demeanor. Spotting Hermione on one of the desks, he smiled warmly at her.

"Hi, Hermione," he greeted softly.

"Hi, Neville," Her voice carried warmth and comfort.

She shifted on the desk to make room for Neville as he approached. He picked up his black jumpsuit and examined it with curiosity.

"What's this?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

"High-end delinquency attire." Hermione's response held a tinge of stress and boredom.

Neville frowned as he placed the jumpsuit back on the desk and took a seat. Their eyes met, and they both let out sighs of relief.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Neville apologized.

Hermione shook her head reassuringly. "It's okay. You're right on time."

Their moment was interrupted by the stern voice of Filch coming from outside the door.

"Move it! Move it! You're late!" his voice boomed.

The students looked up just as Blaise Zabini entered the room, followed closely by Filch and his cat Mrs. Norris. Filch, wearing his usual dirty clothes and carrying a clipboard, exuded anger and impatience.

Filch counted the heads present before addressing the newcomers. "If it isn't obvious, we have two new people joining us. Hermione Granger and..." His voice trailed off.

"Neville Longbottom," Neville quickly offered.

"Longbottom." Filch grumbled dismissively, "And Mister Corner just joined us on Wednesday." He gestured at the jumpsuits, "There's a new dress code when you're performing your duties. You're expected to come fully dressed in your uniforms. The disused boys' bathroom has been turned into the program's official changing rooms in the Glanmore Peakes' Corridor. That's where you'll keep those."

Hermione's ears perked up at the mention of the location. "That's on the sixth floor. You don't actually expect us to go up there and come back down every day."

"I don't care," Filch snapped, indifferent to Hermione's concern. The Slytherins giggled, finding amusement in her discontent. Filch continued, "I leave a parchment paper with instructions on your tasks for the day. Mrs. Norris will be watching." He produced a sack of black nylon anklets. "You're required to wear these. They'll adjust to your size and latch themselves around your wrists to indicate your active status."

"This is barbaric. We're not prisoners." Hermione muttered to Neville.

Overhearing her remark, Draco mumbled something to Theo, and they both erupted into fits of snickering.

Filch glared at the two Slytherins and cleared his throat before resuming. "It doesn't matter what you've done in the past. This program will teach you discipline, teamwork, empathy—sympathy, whatever it—" He was interrupted by Pansy's laughter as Michael conjured flowers with his wand, playfully aiming them at her.

"Excuse me, I'm still speaking!" Filch yelled.

"What? I thought you finished," Pansy feigned innocently.

"You see my lips still moving? That means I'm still talking." Filch spat, his uneven browned teeth revealing itself like fangs.

"You could have been coughing or yawning or chewing," Theo unhelpfully added.

Draco chuckled, prompting Filch to snap, "Quiet, boy! Or you'll be spending the rest of your days with your families in Azkaban."

Hermione's attention fixated on Neville, his hands fidgeting nervously and tightly clasped with hers. She could sense his growing discomfort and felt the need to comfort him in this awkward situation. Draco's presence beside them sent a wave of apprehension and envy coursing through her, though she couldn't quite comprehend the cause for her cheeks warming.

Draco's sneering voice broke the tension, directed at Neville. "You alright there, Longbottom? Should we summon Madam Pomfrey?"

"He's dating Looney Lovegood now." Pansy interjected with a smug tone, as if delivering the final explanation.

Theo's incredulous jaw dropped. "Wait a minute, I thought you said Granger was shagging him—"

"Her n-name is Luna, and she's th-the most wonderful witch I know." Neville's voice quivered with interruption, his words tinged with frustration.

"Is that...are you...that's just a noise, now c'mon. Are we supposed to comprehend what comes out of his mouth?" Draco sneered, his tone dripping with mockery.

Draco's acerbic delivery irked Hermione, even as she had grown accustomed to his direct insults and sneers. But she refused to let him intimidate Neville, not while she was present. Determination fueled her words as she spoke up, her voice laced with defiance. "Do you want to comprehend my fist with your nose again, you repugnant cockroach? Your arrogance knows no bounds."

Theo, seemingly unfazed, casually draped an arm around Draco's shoulders, patting his chest. "I don't think she likes you very much, mate. Should I take a swing at her? I call dibs."

Neville, though visibly frightened, found his voice and stood up. "You can't—she's not your property. Sh-she—Hermione is—She's too good for you."

Theo mimicked Neville's stuttering, provoking him further. "Her, her, he—Sh-sh-sh—Du-du," he mocked. "Is she now? Well, maybe I'll have to take a swing at you—literally."

In that instant, as Theo shoved Neville, Hermione's eyes widened with concern. She swiftly moved into action, hurling insults at Theo and tossing her jumpsuit in his direction, her anger fueling her actions.

Theo, unfazed by her outburst, nonchalantly threw the jumpsuit back at her, further infuriating Hermione.

Pansy's delighted laughter filled the air, thoroughly entertained by the unfolding chaos.

Michael, sensing the seriousness of the situation, hurriedly approached Hermione, positioning himself defensively at her side. "Theo, mate, knock it off. You've gone too far."

Blaise, observing from his corner, wore an expression of disdainful seriousness, despite the escalating turmoil. "I shouldn't even be here," he muttered, dropping his head back against the wall.

Amidst the escalating frenzy, Filch's voice boomed, desperately pleading for them to stop. He threatened to involve McGonagall, warning them of potential expulsion.

Neville, filled with a surge of protectiveness, attempted to push Draco away and defend Hermione, but Draco firmly held him back. "Let me go, Malfoy! She's my friend!" Neville's voice echoed with determination.

Unyielding, Hermione's anger flared once again. She aimed a quill at Theo, striking him in the eye, eliciting a yelp of pain. "Ow! You bloody witch! That hurt!" Theo complained.

Pansy, finding the spectacle immensely entertaining, laughed even harder, clapping her hands in amusement. "This is better than watching Quidditch!" she exclaimed.

Michael, recognizing the need for calm, gently took hold of Hermione's arm, pulling her away from Theo. "Hermione, calm down. He's not worth it!"

Blaise, rolling his eyes, crossed his arms, his expression conveying utter disdain. "This is ridiculous."

Filch, brandishing his clipboard, waved it frantically in the air, desperate to capture their attention. "Stop it! Stop it right now! Or I'll have you all expelled! Or worse, I'll make you clean the toilets with your tongues!" his voice boomed in a futile attempt to restore order.