Friday, 4 September 1998

By Friday afternoon, after a morning of double Ancient Runes and double Transfiguration, Hermione was exhausted. Astronomy on Wednesday had been partly cancelled due to the cloudy weather and they had studied the theory of the satellites Callisto and Ganymede in the reading room instead of studying the night sky. Her facial skin had stopped burning completely before she'd even gone to bed, and Hermione hadn't needed to go back to the hospital wing.

Thursday had been a dreadful day that had started with a double Herbology class. They were blessed with a free period afterwards, which they had needed to shower and change into clean clothes as they had wrestled with Venomous Tentaculas to collect its juice and leaves. It had been an exhausting and dangerous class during which Susan Bones had been rushed to the hospital wing with the tentacles still wrapped around her neck as her face had turned a worrisome shade of blue. Luckily, she had recovered before the end of their free period.

After their free period, they had an hour of History of Magic, then a break for lunch before a double Potions class. Professor Slughorn had warned them that this year was going to be especially advanced, so every potion was going to be brewed in pairs. All their potions had to be brewed to absolute perfection so they could be transferred to the Ministry of Magic and St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Most students had shuddered at the thought that their potions would be used in real-life situations, nervous to make mistakes. Hermione had been happy; finally they would be doing something valuable. They had started with brewing a Blood-Replenishing Potion, which would take them two to three weeks to complete. Hermione had paired up with Ernie Macmillan, as she was the only Gryffindor left in class now that Harry and Ron hadn't returned and Ernie was the only Hufflepuff in the class. Apart from them, there were four Ravenclaws and four Slytherins who had paired up amongst each other.

During Transfiguration they had started with Human Transfiguration, which was of such a difficult degree that even Hermione had struggled enormously, even though she alone had achieved a slight success and earned twenty points for Gryffindor. Afterwards, she had briefly visited the Great Hall to collect some sandwiches, after which she directly headed to her dormitory.

Hermione was now lying on her back on her four-poster bed, determined to rest a little before using her free afternoon to work through the large amounts of homework they had already received in the three days they had been back at school. She had already finished her Arithmancy essay about the Number of the Beast, which was due on Monday, and her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay was nearly done as well. They had not received any homework for History of Magic and Herbology, except preparing the next class by reading the assigned chapters. She would finish her essay on Horcruxes first, and then she would get started on the foot-long essay about the Blood-Replenishing Potion due on Tuesday. For Transfiguration and Charms they only had to practice the spell they had discussed and performed in class, and she had already finished translating the manuscripts for Ancient Runes during class.

After having lain down for a while, appreciating the comfort of her bed against her sore back and shoulders, Hermione sat up and ate her tuna sandwich before feeding the last bit to Crookshanks. She then collected her books and headed downstairs. Malfoy was lying on the couch, reading The Wonder of Wigtown Wanderers by Kennilworthy Whisp. He looked up and grumbled something she assumed to be a greeting when she put her books down on the table.

After their conversation on Wednesday evening, Malfoy had actually shown some effort to be civil toward her and their classmates. On Thursday morning he had tossed her a little green badge and told her that he was the Quidditch Captain for Slytherin. He had approached the other House's Captains to ask them about their trials in a civil manner—even Ginny, who had still been completely baffled when Hermione had visited the Gryffindor common room Thursday evening. Draco Malfoy had greeted her earlier that day, asked her about the Gryffindor Quidditch trial plans while taking notes, and he had even thanked her. No insults, no taunting, no name-calling.

Hermione was genuinely impressed: it seemed that Malfoy really wanted to turn over a new leaf. It was true that he ignored her more than he tried to act civil toward her, but it was a start and a nice change from the usual taunting and childish insults. She could tell that he was struggling to sustain this attitude, but he was doing quite well, if she ignored the fact that he was rather impatient and seemed to snap easily.

She sat down at the table and opened Secrets of the Darkest Art for what she hoped to be the last time. Only a few more paragraphs to go and she would never have to touch this awful, awful book again. After about half an hour, she had finally finished her essay and put it aside, ready to start on her Potions essay. She searched the bookshelves for the potions book she had seen earlier but found an empty space instead.

She turned around and shot a questioning look at the back of Malfoy's head. "Did you take Potions, Philtres, Incenses and Mixtures by Rubens Winikus?" she asked.

Malfoy didn't look up from his book but turned his head a little in her direction, indicating that he had heard her. "Why?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Because I need it, obviously."

"Nott has it."

"What?" She glared at the back of his head, feeling irritated. "Why does Nott have it when he could have just gotten it from the library?"

"If you need it, why don't you go and get it from the library?" Malfoy grumbled. He grabbed his book tighter as though he was trying to escape into it.

"I shouldn't have to, you should just return things to where they belong," Hermione snapped. She grabbed her things, snatched a roll of parchment from the table and marched out of the common room. She hurried through the corridors and once she had reached the library, she claimed the table in the far corner as she always did.

She was in an exceptionally bad mood, which was quite a common occurrence when people borrowed stuff without returning it, or when they just left things lying around. It was one of her biggest pet-peeves. And now, instead of being done quickly so she could go and visit Professor McGonagall to discuss her weekly report and the patrol schedule, she had to search the shelves for that bloody book she needed.

It wasn't that Hermione didn't know the library by heart—of course she did. But the majority of her fellow students didn't return books to the shelves they found them on, instead simply putting them on the nearest shelve when they were done. The number of times she had found Potions books in the Transfiguration section or Quidditch books in the Arithmancy section... Hermione shook her head in frustration and started searching the Potion section for the book she needed. She was lucky today, she concluded, when she found it almost immediately.

The Blood-Replenishing Potion wasn't all that difficult in Hermione's opinion, but there were some pretty tricky parts that she needed to reference. After having done that, she managed to finish the essay fairly quickly. She would read it through once more later today to check whether all the information was complete. She put away her stuff, walked up to Madam Pince to register that she would check out a book, and made her way to the Headmistress' office.

~ X ~

"This looks very good, Ms Granger; you may distribute this schedule amongst the Houses," McGonagall announced, nodding in approval as she handed Hermione the patrol schedule back. "Now, how were these first few days?"

"They were quite all right, Professor," Hermione answered after a brief silence. "It's still strange to be back after such a long period of chaos in between, but it's easier than anticipated, almost like I never left at all in the first place."

Professor McGonagall nodded and gave her a smile. "I'm glad to hear that, even though I never doubted that you would easily find your way once you were back." Her smile faded and the Headmistress pursed her lips. "What about Mr Malfoy? How have things been?"

Hermione considered this question for a moment. "I suppose it's been rather good. We have quite a history though, and I don't think things will really change between us in the short term, but Malfoy has definitely shown some effort and I have to give him some credit for that."

"That's a good start. I really do hope he takes this seriously, but judging from last Wednesday I suppose I shouldn't expect all too much."

"That was Blaise Zabini, Professor," Hermione pointed out.

Professor McGonagall frowned. "Professor Flitwick did mention Mr Malfoy."

"I know; they were sitting next to each other and I'm sure they both laughed, but the rest of the Slytherins probably did too. In their defence, I did have a beard. I spoke to Sophie Roper later that day and she told me she saw Blaise Zabini cast the spell," Hermione explained. She had been seated next to Sophie during Arithmancy, and that's when her former dorm mate had asked her what she had done to Zabini to receive such a hex from behind, which was enough proof for her to back up Malfoy's claim.

"Well if you're sure, Ms Granger, I'll inform Mr Filch that Mr Zabini will be serving detention by himself. Please do tell Mr Malfoy that he is responsible for what students do in his presence, at least to an extent."

"I have, Professor. I'll make sure to keep reminding him."

"Very well. If you could inform Mr Malfoy of these changes, all is settled and you may enjoy your weekend."

"How is he supposed to spend his weekend, Professor? Is he to stay in the common room or is he allowed to be down in the Slytherin dungeons?" Hermione asked quickly.

Professor McGonagall leaned back in her chair. "I suppose he's allowed to spend time in the dungeons. Let's say his curfew Friday through Sunday is ten-thirty. That should be quite reasonable for someone in his position, don't you think?"

Hermione shrugged and nodded vaguely, not really opinionated on the matter. She didn't mind sharing a common room with him as much as she had expected, but if they could reverse that decision and go back to their own common rooms, she would definitely prefer that over the current situation. She simply felt more comfortable among the Gryffindors. But before that could be achieved, Malfoy had to prove himself for a few more days. She hoped he would continue on this way.

"Alright, I'll see to it that his curfew is secured," the Headmistress said, concluding their meeting. With a nod, Professor McGonagall dismissed her, and Hermione made her way to the Owlery to send a letter to Harry and Ron.

~ X ~

She arrived back in the common room thirty minutes later. Malfoy had taken her place at the table in their study section and was working on his Defence Against the Dark Arts essay. He didn't look up when she walked in and continued writing.

"Professor McGonagall has approved of the patrol schedule," Hermione announced. Malfoy nodded, seemingly uninterested in this announcement, and turned a page of the book in front of him. She studied him for a moment. He looked tired, similar to the way he had looked throughout their sixth year. He had dark circles under his eyes and he was very pale—paler than he usually was.

"And you don't have to serve detention tonight," she added softly.

At this his head snapped up and his eyes displayed disbelief. "What?"

Hermione sat down on the chair across from him and shrugged. "I told Professor McGonagall that it wasn't you."

He kept staring at her. "Why?" he asked, sounding suspicious.

"Does it matter why? You don't have to serve detention, and you're free to spend time in the Slytherin dungeons until ten-thirty Friday through Sunday evening. You could just be happy."

"I think I'm going down to the Armoury after dinner to watch Zabini clean like a common house-elf," Malfoy said quietly, smirking, more to himself than to her.

"I really wonder why Dobby decided to leave and find another master," Hermione muttered sarcastically, scowling at him for the disrespectful mention of house-elves. At the same time she tried to ignore the sadness she felt when she thought of the free elf that had lost his life while saving theirs.

Upon hearing Dobby's name, Malfoy's smirk faded and he stared at her with angry eyes. "I'm glad he did, he was a horrible house-elf, always looking for loopholes in our orders."

"Maybe if you had treated him with a little kindness he would have done a better job," Hermione said, glaring at him. "But instead you treated him awfully, and you wonder why he was looking for loopholes to escape?"

"Ah, that's right! You set out to be the grand saviour of house-elves, didn't you?" Malfoy sneered. "Why's that, Granger? Do you feel some kind of deep connection to enslaved beings because you yourself are inferior to the rest of wizardkind too?"

Hermione felt her face turn a deep shade of red and she shot an intense glare at Malfoy, momentarily unable to find the words to express just how angry she was right now. "You're a disgusting excuse for a human being, Malfoy," she snarled eventually. "How do you even live with yourself? Mistreating others just to feel better about yourself, just because you've been brought up with the idea that you might be better than other beings? And you call yourself a respectable wizard!"

"The opinion on what a respectable wizard should be like seems to differ from person to person," Malfoy countered in a disparaging tone. "Just because you lack understanding of what's common in the wizarding world..."

"If a house-elf really enjoyed being abused and mistreated, they wouldn't be looking for loopholes now would they," Hermione hissed angrily.

Malfoy leaned back in his chair and scowled at her. "You have to put them in their place and keep them there; you don't want your servants to become too free," he stated matter-of-factly, sounding as though he had mentioned this a hundred times before.

Hermione laughed mirthlessly in response. "Well you've managed to brainwash them for centuries, haven't you? They're under the impression that they want to be enslaved! It's preposterous! Even the elves here at Hogwarts! They claim to be happy to work here. If that were true they wouldn't have taken the hats I had knitted for them, now would they? But they did and—"

"You did what?" Malfoy interrupted her with a wide smirk on his face. "Knitted hats? You actually tricked house-elves into their freedom? And you say that I'm some pathetic excuse for a human being?" She stared at him, confusion slightly replacing the anger she was feeling. "Oh my, Granger, you're an ignorant little wench, aren't you?" Malfoy sneered softly, amusement written all over his face. "You tried to free the house-elves, even after they told you they were perfectly happy working here?"

"They just don't realise what they're missing," Hermione muttered, uncertain of why he suddenly made such a blissful impression.

Malfoy's eyes were bright with mirth. "And this, Granger, this right here proves that you're but a mere intruder in a world you don't fully understand." He raised his wand and Accio'ed a book, which came flying down the stairs leading to his dormitory and landed directly into his hands.

"Now, Granger, pay close attention, all right?" he said softly, smirking maliciously at her. "I'm about to educate you. Let's see, our story begins some thousand years ago, when Hogwarts was founded. Back then, house-elf mistreatment was very common—normal even. This was before the existence of the Ministry's Guidelines on House-elf Welfare, even the suggestion of such guidelines was simply absurd back then, and even now I doubt they're enforced. House-elves were mere slaves—property, if you will, and it was entirely up to their master how they treated them. Quite frankly, I believe it shouldn't be anyone else's business. Are you still listening?"

Hermione shot a glare at him, but quickly returned her curious gaze to the book in Malfoy's hands. It was an ancient book, that much was clear. She wondered where he was going with this line of discussion, what was in this book that he needed for his propaganda. As if aware of her thoughts, he opened the book and browsed through the pages until he apparently found what he was looking for. Malfoy turned the book so she could read it.

"At some point after Hogwarts was founded, Helga Hufflepuff—ever soft and welcoming—decided to extend this welcoming attitude of hers, not only to students that weren't wanted anywhere else but also to beings that were mistreated." Malfoy looked up at her, malicious mirth dancing in his eyes. He was clearly enjoying this immensely.

"I did mention this was a dark time for house-elves, didn't I?" He smirked. "Now, Helga Hufflepuff felt sorry for them and decided to arrange for house-elves to be welcome at Hogwarts, giving them some place safe to work where they would not be mistreated or abused. Isn't that touching, Granger? Wasn't Helga Hufflepuff just the kindest woman you've ever heard of? And here you are, trying to undo all her hard work by denying these poor little elves their safe and happy environment, freeing them against their will and throwing them out on the streets where they are utterly alone and have no one to look after them."

He snapped the book shut and she could feel his eyes on her, but she avoided his gaze by staring down at the table. "Tsk, tsk, Granger. Next time you try to be the heroine of some oppressed species, please, do investigate beforehand." Malfoy collected his belongings and left her alone at the table, heading towards his dormitory.

Hermione felt awful. For years she had tried to free house-elves, indeed against their will, simply because she was convinced that was the right thing to do; that they would appreciate it once they'd had a taste of freedom like Dobby had. She never had a real argument, she had never tried to hear the other side, even when Ron and Fred and George had talked to her about how house-elves actually liked and appreciated the work. And they were right, of course. Unlike Dobby, back when he was still in service of the Malfoy family, the house-elves here at school had great working conditions. She had possibly ruined the lives of countless elves by freeing them against their will.

Malfoy came downstairs again and he snickered when he saw she had remained seated in the same spot. Hermione looked up at him with a hollow gaze that he answered with a look of false concern. "Snap out of it, Granger. I'm sure they've gathered around Dobby by now, he always was an oddball. I'm sure he's their new leader: the Harry Potter of the house-elves."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat when he said that. He didn't even know. "Dobby is dead," she said softly, glancing up at him.

His gleeful expression faded quickly and his eyes displayed shock, though he seemed to try to fight that back. "Oh," was all he said.

"Right after we Disapparated from your manor," she told him. "Bellatrix had thrown a knife and it Disapparated with us. It hit him squarely in his chest. There was nothing we could do..."

"I didn't ask, did I, Granger? I couldn't care less about what happened to that stupid elf," Malfoy spat, glaring down at her.

"You're responding quite forcefully to this considering you claim to feel so indifferent about him," Hermione countered, matching his glare.

He scoffed at that. "Maybe I hated the bloody elf, Granger. Did that ever occur to your so-called brilliant mind?"

"Hate is quite a passionate emotion, Malfoy. To hate something you must have cared about it first, to some extent."

He stared at her in disbelief and anger. "That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard," he hissed.

"Is it?" Hermione challenged softly. "They don't say that there's a fine line between love and hate for nothing, you know. I would guess that you feel Dobby has wronged you in some way, or you would indeed feel indifferent about this. But you don't. Something's bothering you," she mused in conclusion, studying his face.

"So what?" Malfoy snarled, wild fury suddenly flickering in his eyes. "Does it really matter to you that even my bloody house-elf betrayed me in favour of Saint P—" He cut himself off mid-sentence, looking as though he'd been struck across the face. He stared at her with wide eyes that seemed to be full of regret for just a second.

Hermione knew what he had wanted to say, and she also knew that he had slipped up. Malfoy had just shared a vulnerable piece of information about himself, and she realised full well that it had been completely unintentional. Malfoy was jealous and insecure.

She opened her mouth, though not sure what she was going to say. The second he noticed he shot her such a passionate glare that she shut her mouth immediately. If looks could kill, she would have been lying dead on the floor right this instant. Without another word, Malfoy stormed out of the common room, completely oblivious to the fact that he left behind a girl with a heart that, even for just a moment, ached for him, temporarily making her forget that he had just angered and humiliated her in a way she had never experienced before.

Draco Malfoy had been promised the world, but reality was a cruel mistress.