Hermione was eleven years old, and she was so happy that her chest felt like it was about to explode. She lay under her covers, sweating in the last of the summer heat, willing herself to sleep so tomorrow would come more quickly.

She hadn't been able to sleep since last month when Professor McGonegall knocked on her front door. Her deep purple robes looked almost comically out of place in her parent's soft beige hallway but she carried herself with a deliberate and dignified manner. Hermione saw the corners of her mouth turn up in a stern half-smile before she swept into the kitchen to talk with her parents. Then, she was brought in and let in on this wonderful secret, this secret that made the summer seem like it would last forever.

Hermione Granger was a witch.

She rolled over with a frustrated sigh and finally gave up on her charade of sleeping. From under the bed she pulled out one of the many books stacked there; A History of Muggleborns by Daphne Deeke. Hermione and her parents caught the train into London and visited Diagon Alley last week. They had spent most of the day and a small fortune in the bookstores. Perhaps a little more than they should have spent, Hermione thought with a twinge of guilt.

The thick parchment pages felt warm in her hands. It was knowledge Hermione never could have imagined and it was all here at her fingertips. She traced the title gently before turning the page.

'Muggleborns throughout history have faced persecution. Many believe to this day that they have 'stolen' magic from witches and wizards and that their blood is unclean. To acknowledge this persecution, we must acknowledge a word that has tainted the history of magic since it was first uttered. 'Mudblood'. This is the last time I will write the word, for it is rooted in the deepest evil of all; the ignorance of our magical community.

Muggle borns will often have to work harder, longer, prove themselves again and again for tasks that are given to purebloods and halfbloods without a second thought. This book was written to immortalise those exceptional muggle borns who overcame all odds to do the greatest deeds.'

For the first time in four weeks, Hermione's stomach dropped.

"... Mudblood…" She whispered the word, it sounded like a curse. She withdrew her hand from the page quickly, as if she had been burned.

The next time Hermione was able to sleep through a full night was halfway through her first month at Hogwarts. Her first week was spent in the library watching the small clusters of older girls giggling at the tables. At first she felt only annoyance at the disturbance, then as the second week started it became a small pang of jealousy.

Hermione couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so alone. When the hat called out 'Gryffindor!' to a round of applause, she was greeted by smiles and handshakes as she joined the long oak table. Those smiles had now faded to indifference and annoyance. Every time she opened her mouth she knew she was saying the wrong thing but she didn't know how to stop. She felt compelled to be perceived as someone who knew this world. She thought, perhaps here, she'd finally find friends.

She pulled her bed curtains shut to avoid the sound of whispered conversation from the bed next to her and a resulting peal of giggles was quickly shushed. Hermione had listened a few minutes ago as Lavender Brown woke up every single girl in the room, ushering them into her bed to gossip. She waited for them to shake her but they left her there. She counted the voices. One, two, three, four, five, six. Every single one of them… apart from her.

Hermione rolled over. She wanted to run out of the room and never come back. She wanted her own room at home where her Mum could hold her and tell her that she loved her. Hermione had left her stuffed animals behind in the hope of leaving childish things behind her but all she wanted to do now was bawl like a toddler. She wiped her eyes quickly and tried to calm down her breathing. They would only laugh at her more if they heard her. She took a slim volume and her wand out from under her pillow.

"Lumos" Hermione whispered and a small stream of silver light came from the tip of her wand. As she was about to turn the page a small groove just above the tip of her mattress caught Hermione's eye. She pulled herself forward over her sheets and peered down into the small gap between the headboard and the mattress. There was a small carving in the wood, beneath the two roaring lions that decorated all the beds in the Gryffindor dormitories. Hermione strained as she pointed her wand at the spiralling handwriting.

'C.T.D.'

Beneath the initials there was a rune that Hermione had never seen before. It consisted of two intersecting lines, weaving between each other into a knot. Hermione had already tried to decipher the 4th year reading list and in her brief skim, she hadn't encountered any that looked like this one.

She ran her hand over the marks.

"C.T.D." Hermione whispered. She extinguished her wand and lay back on the fluffy eiderdown pillow. That night, she fell asleep dreaming of who had once slept in her bed and what the rune could mean. Hermione would come to understand that the only way to calm her mind was by running it until exhaustion. When she was mentally scanning through the runes she had studied, the noises of laughter from the bed next door seemed quieter. The small voice in her head that said 'not good enough' was silent.

After a few hours of sleep, Hermione woke with a burning curiosity. The sun was just rising and a thin layer of mist blanketed the castle. She quickly rolled out of bed and pulled out a small square of parchment from her bedside table. Hermione ran her fingers over the rune carved in the headboard and copied it onto the parchment. Faint snoring was the only activity in the girls dormitory as she hastily got dressed and walked down the hallways to the library. Hermione loved Hogwarts the most when it was like this. She could hear birds chirping as the first golden rays of sunshine began to stream through the stained glass windows. It cast a rainbow of colours onto the ground that was usually invisible in the crowd of students jostling to get to class.

"Runes…" Hermione muttered, leafing through the directory. It had taken her the first day to get to grips with wizarding library organisation systems but now she could find books in a flash. She walked to a large bookcase full of leather bound books and selected three to start with.

The hours passed too quickly and before long Hermione realised this could take weeks to solve. Each ornate book was decorated with thousands of tiny intricate runes, all with accompanying descriptions and footnotes. The writing was so small and dense, even Hermione struggled to stay focused. She decided to take a quick break from heavy academics and go through some herbology. The herbology section was in the lightest, airiest part of the library. The books were bound with dried leaves, their delicate network of veins across the covers almost made it seem like the books could be alive.

"Devil's snare." Hermione whispered. The inky illustration on the page showed a tangle of tendrils. "Devil's Snare is deadly fun, but will sulk in the sun. A deadly plant that ensnares its victims based on movement. The more the victim struggles, the tighter the plant will bind. A wizard or witch's only hope is to relax-"

"Fat chance you have then." A sneering voice made Hermione jump violently. Leaning against the bookcase was that silver haired boy that stalked around the hallways with a gaggle of Slytherin underlings. He lounged with a casual arrogance that immediately put Hermione on edge.

"-Malfoy." She said, and hated how small her voice sounded. He took a bite of the apple in his hand, his cold eyes appraising her.

"No need to introduce yourself. I know exactly who you are." Malfoy's eyes were cruelly judging and Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Someone who is clearly too inept to do their own research." She was confused for a moment until she realised he was referring to the scrap of parchment with the rune from her bedside that was displayed neatly on the table.

"Do you know what it means?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Not all of us are slow to the point of going backwards, Granger." His casual use of her name surprised her. She hadn't expected him to know that. He took another bite of his apple as he strolled to the table and slowly turned the parchment paper upside down. "When studying runes, I find it's wise to turn them the right way." She flushed a delicate shade of red. She knew it was likely that many of the students in this school, Malfoy perhaps more than anyone, had years of magical training. Private tutors, libraries of books on magic, parents who had passed down knowledge from when they were at Hogwarts. What would happen, Hermione thought, if they knew how far behind she was? Would they march her in front of Dumbledore and inform her this had all been a mistake? She couldn't bear the thought. She had to be better. She had to study harder, she couldn't let them know.

"Do you know what it means or not?" She snapped, deliberately avoiding his gaze. He smirked, lifting up the parchment to the sunlight that streamed through the window.

"Eihwaz." His voice was unbearably smug. "I won't expect you to know what that means. 'Defense'. At least you're smart enough to watch your back." Defense. Hermione thought back to the initials on her bed. C.A.D was trying to… protect herself? She remembered the giggles of the girls and the stinging sensation of lonliness returned for a moment. She could understand why that rune had been chosen; but who was C.A.D and why had she written it? Hermione narrowed down the possibilities in her head. She had been a Gryffindor. This had likely happened within the last twenty years as the marks remained relatively unworn. She compared it to the faded graffiti she had seen etched on a desk in the unused classroom she sometimes studied in when the library was too busy. 'Kirling was here; 1943'. It was certainly more recent and carefully written than that one. She considered asking Malfoy about the initials for one foolish moment, then realised she would feel more comfortable wrestling a blast-end skrewt.

"Thank you for your help." Hermione muttered, gathering up the books and packing them away in her bag. A look of surprise flitted over Malfoy's face, then was replaced by a condescending sneer.

"I wasn't trying to help, Granger." He said cuttingly, rolling his eyes. Hermione was sick of listening to his taunts; she came to the library to read, not to be examined under a microscope by the all-great and knowing Draco Malfoy. His eyes followed her as she walked curtly out of the room without a goodbye. Malfoy glanced around quickly as she slammed the door behind her. She had left the parchment with the defence rune on the table. He reached out and took it, scrutinised it for a moment. It was the same rune that was etched above the entrance to the west wing in Malfoy Manor. Malfoy had spent years scouring books to find what it had meant; how had the rune come into the possession of Hermione Granger? Malfoy thought for a moment and then, with a deft gesture, he pocketed the parchment and swiftly left.

When Draco Malfoy had scoured the room to ensure he wasn't being watched, he forgot one crucial detail; Severus Snape is rarely seen unless he intends to be. Snape had watched the entire interaction through narrowed eyes from a nearby alcove. He paused in the empty library, taking a breath in the silence while he could. Snape had a growing feeling that these moments of peace would soon cease. He climbed the stairs to his bedchambers, his mind whirring as he tried to calculate the eventualities, the possibilities. All the things that could come to pass if he failed in this mission.

When the door was shut and a few protection spells had been muttered, Snape took his wand out with a flourish.

"Expecto Patronum." He murmured, and waited for the pang of sorrow that came every time he saw the silver doe materialise from the tip of his wand. The doe faded into existence and circled around the room, her large eyes boring into Snape.

"Hello Lily." He whispered. Find Lucius." The doe looked at him with expectant eyes. "Tell him… The situation has been compromised." The doe was still for a moment, then darted through the thick walls of the castle. Snape watched her until she was a small silver dot on the horizon.

Hermione came to realise something during her first year at Hogwarts; she loved being better than Draco Malfoy. Her relentless, obsessive studying had rocketed her into the role of 'smartest student in the year' and the anger it caused Malfoy was strangely satisfying. Since their conversation in the library it had been a driving motivation; she would outrank him in everything. If Malfoy got full marks, she would get full marks and extra credit. If Malfoy managed to cast a complicated spell, she would perfect it. He was the goalpost, the only one to beat. He often strained over to see her marks with an overexaggerated act of subtlety and the angry flush of red that came to his face send a jolt of pride through her every time.

That is, until a frosty night the day before Christmas break was due to finish. Ron and Harry never got up as early as Hermione; she never managed to break the habit of broken sleep developed in the first few weeks. She was in her favourite reading spot; a small nook carved in the walls of the castle, overlooking Hagrid's hut. Students hardly ever came down here and at this time of day when the sun had almost slid beneath the horizon she was guaranteed to not be disturbed. She had come back three days early from Christmas with her parents to try and get a headstart on her research.

Now the light was fading, she would go back to the castle to find Harry and Ron… and dinner. Her stomach was now audibly protesting the length of this reading excursion. Hermione had just closed her book when she heard footsteps coming from the direction of the castle. Hermione shrank back into the alcove, she wasn't sure if she had accidentally gone past curfew and the last thing she needed was a detention to start off the new term. A flash of silver hair passed her and stopped in front of a large weeping willow tree. Malfoy. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief that she was mostly obscured by the long leafy branches. Malfoy took a bright scarlet letter out of his pocket, paused for a moment, then a loud rustling of paper and a cold, angry voice pierced the air.

"Second. Place. Your tutor has just informed me that you have come second. Yet again you disappoint me with your lacklustre efforts. The great Malfoy family, outperformed by a mudblood. Your mother is trying to keep this from the Blacks, if you continue with this failure, you will be a laughing stock." Hermione covered her mouth. A howler. She had never seen one before; Malfoy remained motionless as the letter continued. "Do not fail me again." The paper erupted into purple and red flames and Hermione choked back a gasp of surprise. The noise alerted Malfoy and he spun around accusingly. Hermione noticed with a growing sense of horror that his eyes were sparkling with tears.

"I… I'm sorry-" Hermione stuttered, jumping to her feet. Malfoy stalked over to her, wiping his eyes furiously on his sleeve.

"What did you hear?"

"Nothing… I… I swear-"

"If you tell anyone I'll-" He paused, unable to continue. He didn't look so terrifying to her now. His face was slightly pink, his hands balled into fists. His chest trembled slightly; he looked like he was about to burst into sobs and Hermione wondered if he would send a curse to her back if she ran away. "I'll-" Malfoy stuttered.

"I won't tell anyone." Hermione said suddenly, almost surprised that she meant it. Part of her felt a twinge of enjoyment at the power that she now held over him, but his ashen face was… pitiful. Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for him. "I… I won't tell anyone Malfoy. I promise." He stared at her with wide eyes for a beat, then nodded curtly and walked hurriedly back in the direction of the castle.

Hermione took a deep breath.

With a father like that; how could he not be the way he was? Hermione wasn't sure she liked this new development. If Malfoy was in fact human instead of a walking mass of sarcasm and cutting remarks, it complicated things. But then… How did it complicate things? She went out of her way to avoid him at the best of times. Thankfully their paths rarely crossed apart from class and he always sat in the corner with his Slytherin cronies, far away from the trio.

Perhaps it was for the best that this continued, Hermione decided firmly. Perhaps it was best to ignore Malfoy completely. Her patent black school shoes trampled the scraps of the Malfoy howler as she walked back to the castle.

The next time she spoke to Malfoy, it was the day she was due to leave for summer break. She had packed up as many books as she possibly could for summer reading and felt a pang of sadness that she wouldn't be able to cast spells during the summer. She would have to come up with new reading lists and pace herself so she didn't consume all the reading material in the first week.

Eight weeks. She sighed. It felt too long. She loved her parents and couldn't wait to see them, but there was a strange neutrality about her home now. For the first two weeks of Christmas break, Hermione had loved being at home. For the last week, she had done nothing but pace her room in abject boredom. The letters that came from Ron and Harry were frequent, but without access to the library she felt somehow… unable to contribute. They were her best friends. It was best not to think of it that way.

What would she do with eight whole weeks?

Hermione ran her finger over the rune in her bed before picking up her suitcase and leaving her dormitory for the summer with a small, sad sigh. In the whirlwind that had been the last few months of the term, Hermione had almost forgotten the rune and the mystery of C.A.D. She had managed a few enquiries but in truth, her first year had been overwhelming. There were too many things to find out, too many secrets hiding in these walls.

"Nice job with the devil's snare, Granger. Shame it didn't choke you." She hated when Malfoy did that; just appeared out of nowhere with a horrible remark. She didn't want him to spoil the glow of happiness she had felt since they had prevented you-know-who from taking the philosopher's stone.

"I almost forgot how to stop it because of you distracting me." Hermione shot back at him. He seemed to enjoy this remark; of course he would. The idea of her being strangled by the Devil's snare was likely a very entertaining image for him.

"I'll try harder in the future then." His patronising smirk was unbearable, why did he have to be this way? Every time she had a moment of triumph, there he was to take the wind out of her sails. Hermione's patience had finally run out.

"Tell that to your father, not me." She hissed, and Malfoy recoiled as if she had slapped him. The moment she said the words, she regretted them. Hermione blinked; had she gone too far? Malfoy was silent, the words hung in the air. "-Look, I didn't mean-" Hermione stumbled hastily.

"Forget it." Malfoy snarled. "I'd rather die than be pitied by a mudblood." It was the first time Hermione had ever been called the word from the book she read before she came to Hogwarts. It felt like a lifetime ago. The venom in his voice made her take a step back and they met each other's eyes, both burning with anger and shock. Without another word, they both turned and walked away.

I never want to see him again. I hate him, I hate him. Hermione thought the words over and over to stop the tears from coming. Any shred of evidence that Draco Malfoy was human had been obliterated. He was exactly what she thought he was.

Over her shoulder, just out of sight, Draco Malfoy turned and watched her walk away.