Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling.
The Great Hall was busy by the time Hermione and Ginny made it to the Gryffindor table. The boys had saved them a spot towards the far end, the traditional seventh year area of the long tables.
As they sat down the large doors at the end of the hall opened and Hagrid led in a group of tiny first years, dressed in their plain black robes. Many of them pointed at Harry as they walked past but most were focused on the sights of the Great Hall to pay too much attention to a boy they'd be spending the year at school with.
The headmistress stood and welcomed the new joiners and explained the proceedings before beginning the sorting.
A small blonde girl called Amelia Allsorts was sorted into Hufflepuff to cheers from that table, and Percy Brotherton, a tall, skinny boy with dark, curly hair was sorted into Ravenclaw to more cheers. The third boy, a short blond boy called Thomas Drowley, approached the stool with some hesitation and closed his eyes as the hat was put on his head. He screwed up his face and he seemed to be chanting something as the hat considered him, before shouting out 'Slytherin!' as loud as possible.
The boy's eyes flew open and he went completely pale. He looked at the headmistress with tears in his eyes. Nobody moved for what seemed like ages but in reality was probably only a few seconds. The hall was eerily silent.
"Unlucky little scrap, I wouldn't want to be sorted into that house," murmured Ron, "especially not with Malfoy back. Imagine the common room chat 'Hands up who's parents are in Azkaban!'" He shuddered but his grin was a dead give away and Hermione kicked him under the table.
"Ron, can't you be a little bit sympathetic, the poor boy is probably terrified. Besides, we're supposed to be promoting house unity, don't be so divisive. Someone should go and speak to him."
Just at that moment the scraping of one of the benches against the floor could be heard and the group looked round to the far end of the Slytherin table, where a solitary figure was moving. He walked purposefully down the side of the hall, his robe billowing behind him as he approached the front of the hall, all eyes on him. He knelt beside the small boy still sitting on the stool, unmoving.
"Do you know who I am?" he spoke softly so only Thomas and the headmistress could hear. The boy merely nodded in reply.
"I'm a prefect in Slytherin house, do you know what that means?"
The boy shook his head.
"It means, no matter what, I've got your back. Slytherins are proud and ambitious but we are also loyal to one another. We're a family; a dysfunctional one, granted, but every single person in this house has your back. Do you understand?"
The small boy looked into the piercing grey eyes of Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater, and nodded.
"Good. Now join your housemates, we have a feast to get to and I am a big fan of pudding."
The younger boy hopped down from the stool and with one last glance at the headmistress, ran over to join his new housemates.
Draco stood, brushed down his clothes and nodded to the headmistress, who nodded in return, a hint of a grin on her face, before returning to his seat at the far end of the Slytherin table.
The rest of the sorting went without a hitch.
Once completed, the headmistress rose to give her start of term speech. It felt so strange to be standing there, in Albus' place, but she had a duty to this school and she was not about to let the students or the memory of so many down.
"Welcome to our new students and welcome back to so many of you. Before we begin our feast I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Weasley."
Bill Weasley stood from his place at the head table and bowed slightly. Ron groaned and tried to disappear into the collar of his robes, while Ginny kicked him under the table. Bill's appointment had been a source of much amusement over the summer, but Ron thought having his brother as a teacher was probably the worst thing about coming back to school.
"As a celebration, the school will be hosting a Yule ball at the end of the term, which will be for all students," the headmistress continued over the gasps and chatter that erupted. "It will be a small celebration, with food, music and dancing, but prefects are reminded to report any and all underage drinking to their heads of house.
"In addition, the forbidden forest is off limits to all students - and I do mean all, this year. Returning witches and wizards from third year and above are eligible for Hogsmeade visits with a permission slip, and, as we have so many older students in our halls this year, those of you of age have the freedom to leave the school at weekends, providing you sign out with your head of house and sign back in again on your return. Do remember you will be unable to apparate from within the grounds, I'm certain Madam Pomfrey does not want to be repairing minor splinches all term."
The headmistress looked out at the fresh faces of the first and second years and then further down the table at the worn and weary faces of teenagers who had fought a battle - as her comrades and her enemies.
"The past year has been a difficult time. There has been great loss – on both sides." She paused and removed her glasses, rubbing her tired eyes. "Sides. That word has been used a lot lately. There has been a lot of talk about the good side and the bad side, the light and the dark. Such things shouldn't even exist in a school, and yet so many of you were forced to one side or the other, forced to choose, or left with no choice at all. I always celebrated the houses of this great school as a way to make fast friends with like-minded people and encourage competition, in academic and sporting endeavours. What I never saw was that it also created sides. Well, it ends today."
She raised her wand and all the coloured banners and other defining insignia above and around each of the house tables changed to the Hogwarts crest. The gasps and murmurs of the students were quickly quieted by her raised hands.
"The school houses will still exist and I expect you to still have house pride - that is why we have just had a sorting. You will continue to have lessons and share dormitories with your housemates, but common areas will no longer be segregated. The Great Hall tables are free for all. Starting right now."
She nodded to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny as they rose and, with one last shared look, split up and went to sit at their respective tables.
Ron sat next to Luna, who didn't need to make space as her housemates had already left space either side of her. Ginny and Harry went to join Hannah Abbott on the Hufflepuff table who organised her housemates to give them enough space.
Hermione approached the Slytherin table with some trepidation. Pansy Parkinson shuffled so there was no space next to her. The only space that wasn't next to the first and second years at the far end of the table was between Blaise Zabini and Malfoy. She didn't want to seem hesitant so she walked purposefully and sat between the two men quickly.
The silence lasted just a moment before there was more shuffling of benches and at least one prefect from each house (in truth, one fifth year from Slytherin and a number of prefects from the other houses) followed suit and moved to another table. The murmurings continued until the headmistress held up her hands again.
"When you come for any meal in future, I expect you to pick a seat, not to gravitate to your old house. Our most senior students, our heads and prefects have led the way. Now, let's eat!"
She clapped her hands and the feast appeared before them.
Hermione began helping herself to shepherds pie. Once she'd finished she looked around for the vegetables only to discover that Malfoy was helping himself already. There was a moment of awkwardness as everyone watched to see what would happen.
Draco sensed the eyes of his housemates on him. Whilst many had been keen to distance themselves in the aftermath of his trial, his ex-girlfriend included, he knew he still set the tone at this table and the younger generation would follow his lead.
"Veg, Granger?"
Hermione stared at him, not quite comprehending what he'd said. She blinked and her mouth opened a couple of times without any sound to accompany it.
"Would you like some vegetables?" Draco repeated slowly.
"Um, yes please," Hermione responded, remembering her manners quickly, even as she blushed slightly.
"What the hell are you doing, Drakie!" The high-pitched voice of Pansy Parkinson sounded to their left. Both heads turned as Blaise Zabini tried to quiet her.
"I'm serving our head girl vegetables, Pansy, I would have thought even you could work that one out," Draco drawled, not breaking eye contact with the dark-haired witch.
"It was bad enough she helped herself to pie which we're all going to have to avoid eating now, but you're actually serving her, like some kind of, of-" she gesticulated, searching for the word. "Guest!" She finished, piercingly.
Blaise tried again, in vain, to quiet her. Hermione blushed whilst looking at her plate, unsure how to respond. She could see the occupants of the other tables starting to notice the commotion now. Ron was quickly turning puce with rage, but she could see Luna take his hand.
Draco turned away from Pansy and finished serving vegetables. He then helped himself to an especially large portion of the shepherds pie in front of Hermione.
"Drakie," Pansy whispered, theatrically. "She's a mudblood!"
Everyone stopped. This was the moment, Hermione could tell. What happened next would define how the Slytherins reacted to the new order. She looked up to the head table and she could see Professor McGonagall watching intently.
"Five points from Slytherin for using a slur against our head girl, Parkinson," Malfoy said, clearly enough for everyone to hear, even though he didn't even look up from his meal as he poured himself and then Hermione and Blaise a glass of pumpkin juice. At Pansy's indignant gasps, he added, "Don't make it more, Pansy. Not even you're stupid enough to test me."
Hermione held her head up higher.
"Shepherd's pie, Blaise?" She offered, taking up the offending serving spoon once more.
Blaise smirked at Draco over the bushy head between them and nodded. This year was certainly going to be interesting.
Pansy refused to speak to them for the remainder of the meal. The conversation was somewhat stilted at first but eventually the returning 7th Year Slytherins settled into quiet chatting amongst themselves. Everyone was careful not to reveal anything in front of the head girl, and nobody included her in their conversation but it was as close to normal as they were likely to get for a while.
"Thank you for standing up for me," Hermione whispered to the stoic blond to her right, once the chatter had resumed. The only indication that she had been heard was a slight hesitation of his fork in mid-air. When no reply was forthcoming she continued with her own meal.
"I didn't do it for you, Princess."
Draco carefully placed his cutlery on his plate, and made a show of wiping his mouth before continuing.
"Theo," he called. The dark haired boy on the other side of the table turned to face him. "How was your summer?"
Theo blanched at the question. But his friend's eyes flicked to the guest at the table who was listening intently and he swallowed before continuing.
"Well, Drake, probably not as shit as yours, given you were on house arrest until a week ago, but pretty dire," Theo answered. "After the first couple of weeks under house arrest when they realised they couldn't actually charge me for the crimes of my father, they raided the house almost weekly to check to see if darling dad had returned, and I was spat on the one time I went to Diagon Alley. Just peachy, really."
"You were spat on?" Hermione asked, the indignance clear in her voice, but Draco didn't give him time to answer.
"How about you Daphne?" he asked the blonde at Theo's side.
"Father's in Azkaban, he was one of the first to go to trial, seeing as he kept detailed diaries the Aurors found on their first search. Mother never took the mark, thank Circe, so the three of us were allowed home after a few weeks of searches and the first round of confiscations. Mother goes on about us making good matches because the reparations have nearly cleared us out - a slight dramatisation, you understand," she added when Hermione made a noise as if to interrupt. "She keeps on and on until Astoria bursts into tears."
Hermione was once again thwarted in her attempts to follow up with questions.
"Greg?"
Gregory Goyle looked up from his plate for the first time since Hermione had joined them. The look in his eyes was vacant and the circles under them were dark and pronounced, from weeks - possibly months - of disturbed sleep.
"Don't want to talk about it," was his gruff response.
Hermione was stunned, she didn't even try to say anything as Draco turned to Millicent and Tracy in turn, both of whom had similar stories of run-ins with the authorities and relatives in Azkaban. She had assumed it was bad, of course, and she'd hoped some of the Slytherins had changed their tune, but she hadn't really thought it was this bad. Their side, even if they hadn't actively chosen a side, had lost, and now they were just trying to get by. She realised that Malfoy was simply leading the way. He was just about to ask Blaise and Pansy when she decided she'd had enough.
"You've made your point!" She whispered loudly, slamming her hand down on the table. In the silence that followed, Hermione could feel all eyes on her. Draco merely nodded and resumed his meal. Eventually, everyone returned to eating quietly.
"You didn't have to do that," she murmured, just loud enough for her neighbour to hear. "It was cruel and unnecessary. You could have just explained it to me, what you meant, I would have understood."
Draco continued eating the last of his meal and set his cutlery down, taking a long drag of pumpkin juice. Hermione watched his actions in the corner of her eye, it was clear he had heard her, he was just ignoring her. She returned to the last few mouthfuls of her meal.
"I have no doubt you could have followed any explanation I gave, Granger," he drawled, barely audible even at such close quarters. "But would you have believed me? You could have just assumed I was lying, or at least exaggerating. That things were not really all that bad for the losers in a war, for their children, who had no more choice than your Chosen One. You might have assumed I was playing you, that we don't all just want to get on with our lives if only someone would give us a chance." His eyes connected with hers to emphasise the message. "Well, now you know. So I'd say it was necessary."
Hermione swallowed and set her plate aside. She found herself no longer hungry. He was right, of course. As much as she prided herself on her sense of justice, right and wrong, giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, if Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince, had told her he'd defended her because his housemates wanted a clean start too and they were hoping she and Draco would help them get it she'd have laughed in his face.
"It was still cruel," she replied weakly, then smirked. "It's reassuring, really, I was beginning to wonder if we should have you checked for the imperius curse. Shaking Harry's hand, accepting McGonagall's offer to come back, helping ickle first years. Cruel is a welcome return to normality."
Draco kept his face impassive as he viewed the witch in front of him. He swirled the contents of his goblet to buy time. He could see Blaise shaking with barely contained laughter over her shoulder and while everyone was not looking their way, he could tell they were all listening intently, dinner and idle chatter ignored.
Hermione's confidence was crumbling until she heard Blaise sniggering behind her.
"You shook Potter's hand?" He managed to get out in between laughs.
"Piss off, wanker," Draco muttered, as the rest of the table joined in the laughter - even Goyle cracked a small smile.
When pudding arrived and everyone was happily digging into treacle sponge, ice cream and custard Hermione figured it was safe to talk again.
"Sorry I outed you," she whispered to her right.
Draco stopped eating momentarily. Most people at the table knew not to interrupt him during pudding, he did have a terrible sweet tooth. Once he was onto his second helping he turned to her to answer but Theo interrupted him.
"So Granger, what was your summer like?"
Hermione looked like a rabbit in headlights, her eyes darted from the piercing blue eyes of Theo Nott, the same boy who had never said more than two words to her before, to Draco Malfoy, the enigma she was sitting next to. She realised that everyone had diverted their attention to her, even Pansy had her ear tilted to their conversation, though she stoically ignored them otherwise. Hermione swallowed and cleared her throat before answering.
"Well, immediately after the, um," she stopped and fussed with her napkin before starting again. "Immediately after, there was a lot to do, statements to give, evidence to be presented and explaining to do. We'd been on the run for the best part of a year by that point. And once that was done, and the, uh, the funerals were over, I went to Australia."
"Australia?" Daphne asked, her interest piqued by the unusual location, it was well known the wizarding community in Australia was very small. "Why on earth did you go there?"
"My parents were there," Hermione answered carefully. "They were there for the duration of the war."
Every Slytherin at the table heard the hesitation in her voice, they had all heard enough lies or half-truths to spot one a mile away. Daphne shifted uncomfortably on the bench and Hermione could feel the change in atmosphere.
"Did they like it?" Theo ventured, and Hermione threw him a grateful smile.
"Yes - in fact they've decided to stay. They have a surgery set up and they're quite settled," she smiled. "Besides, they sold their house when they moved so, it made sense not to return."
Daphne shifted on her bench once more. Even Greg had looked up from the ice cream he was currently swirling around his bowl.
"Well, what did you do after that?"
Hermione threw her grateful little smile at Daphne this time.
"Ron, Harry, Ginny and I spent most of the summer together. There were some things we had to do for the ministry, or for the headmistress, but mostly we just hung out, enjoyed not being on the run, eating hot meals, sleeping in comfy beds."
Living without constant fear went without saying.
"That sort of thing. Not very interesting really."
The tension at the table was palpable.
"What?" She asked, hesitantly. "What did I say?"
Theo coughed and the rest of the group returned to their desserts, a little quieter than before. Daphne reached a hand over the table to reassure the other girl.
"Nothing, it's just," she sighed. "That sounds really nice. I think we'd have liked a summer like that."
Hermione felt the uncomfortable knot in her stomach grow. She had approached McGonagall's house unity task with determination to make it work, partnered with cynicism, but perhaps the older witch had been onto something when she came up with the plan, or perhaps she'd spoken to more of the returning Slytherins than she'd previously admitted. Here was a group of people who were currently pariahs, most of them because of the crimes of their parents.
Most of them, but not all, she reminded herself. There was one marked Death Eater and two vocal supporters of the old regime at the table with her, and at least one of them still had an issue with her blood status. It would do well, she thought, to remember the nature of Slytherins, and purebloods in general, to use whatever they could to their advantage.
