Chapter 2
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they all belong to JK Rowling.
Hermione walked silently at the back of the group of Slytherins, her heart racing with anticipation. She needed to blend in, stay inconspicuous. Drawing attention to herself was the last thing she wanted right now.
Her strategy for the first few weeks was simple: lay low, learn some nasty spells, and gain silent support. Then, when the time was right, she would stage her coup.
Lost in her thoughts, she nearly bumped into Theodore Nott, a skinny boy with dark hair, when the group abruptly stopped in front of a blank wall.
"Sorry," she murmured, and he nodded quickly, glancing away.
"Now, firsties, this is the entrance to our common room. The password changes monthly; this month's password is 'purity.'"
A ripple of laughter spread through the other first-years as they glanced back at her, but Hermione ignored them, focusing instead on the wall as it rippled away to reveal a long, dimly lit hallway.
"Come along; our head of house is waiting to give you an introduction."
As they stepped into the common room, Hermione's eyes widened. The walls were a deep green, with dark wooden furniture and heavy drapes that added to the room's somber atmosphere. Four large windows lined the back wall, and she jumped slightly as she noticed a few fish gliding past the glass.
"We're under the lake," said a voice, pulling her gaze away from the window.
Professor Snape stood tall by the fireplace, his presence commanding immediate respect. The group of first-years muttered his name in unison.
"Please line up," he instructed in his slow, deliberate manner.
Hermione shuffled to the end of the line, her mind racing back to the first time she had met Severus Snape. He had come to tell her she was a witch, opening a door to a world she never knew existed. She felt a swell of gratitude toward him and was eager to learn from the formidable man who would guide her through the next seven years.
"I am your head of house," he continued, scanning the room with his dark eyes. "That means I am responsible for you. If you have trouble, you come to me. If you struggle, you come to me. Is that clear?"
The first-years nodded, a mix of fear and awe in their eyes.
"Good. Now for the rules." He paused, locking eyes with each student.
"Rule number one: any conflicts stay within this house. Outside these walls, we are a united front. Do we understand?"
Draco Malfoy, his nose raised imperiously, stepped forward. "Sir, surely you don't mean the mudblood also?"
Snape's eyes darkened, and without a flick of his wand, Draco suddenly found his mouth foaming as soap bubbled from it.
"Let me repeat myself. Outside of this common room, we are a united front. I do not care who stole whose boyfriend or who comes from what family. United. Have I made myself clear?"
The first-years nodded vigorously, glancing nervously at Draco, who struggled to regain his composure.
"Good. Rule number two: some of you seem to think I won't punish my own house." His gaze turned pointedly to Draco, still coughing bubbles. "This is not the case."
"If I must punish you, I will do so discreetly. No one outside these walls will know the consequences. We are united, and I stand with you outside these walls."
With a flick of his hand, Draco's mouth returned to normal. "Your mother will be hearing from me, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco gulped, his bravado slipping. "Yes, godfather."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco, whose arrogance irked her. He assumed he could bend the rules because of his connection to Snape, but she refused to let him intimidate her.
"Rule number three: Ms. Granger is one of us. Are you so deluded to think the hat put her here by mistake? Some of you are only here because of your legacy. Perhaps it is she who should be questioning your right to be part of our noble house." Hermione smirked as her housemates' faces flushed with outrage.
"Now, if you have any problems the prefects cannot solve, my office is always open for my Slytherins." Snape's lips twitched into a ghost of a smile as the students nodded. "Now, off to bed. The prefects will escort you to breakfast at 8 a.m. sharp."
As the first-years filed out, Hermione heard Snape call her name.
"Ms. Granger, a quick word, please?"
"Yes, professor." She followed him through a concealed door behind a portrait into his office, the air thick with expectation.
Snape gestured for her to sit as she hesitated by the door. "Welcome to Slytherin House. I trust you've been well since we last met?"
His words felt like a warm welcome, the first she had received since arriving at Hogwarts. "Thank you, sir," she replied, trying to contain her enthusiasm.
Noticing her reserved demeanor, Snape sighed. He pulled a book from his desk drawer and slid it across to her.
"Sir?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised as she read the title: 1001 Jinxes.
"As you are undoubtedly aware, Slytherins are not fond of your kind."
"My kind?" Hermione's voice trembled slightly with indignation.
"Ms. Granger, I know you're intelligent, so keep up. You are a Muggle-born, and these children have been raised to despise your kind."
Hermione pressed her lips together, forcing herself to stay silent and composed.
Snape continued, "This book will help you. Don't let them drive you out, Ms. Granger."
She nodded stiffly. "Thank you, sir. Is that all?"
He nodded, watching her leave.
When he had first been sent to the Granger house, he had cursed Minerva for falling ill and leaving him with the task. But then he had met her. Quick-witted and sharp, she made some purebloods seem dull-witted by comparison. He hoped she would thrive in Slytherin. There was a fire in her that he wanted to cultivate, to help her harness her potential.
Severus sent a silent prayer to Merlin that he was right about Hermione. He hoped the other Slytherins wouldn't run her out.
Hermione awoke early the next morning, before her dorm mates, and quietly prepared for the day ahead. As she picked up her tie, staring at the house colors, she resolved that today marked the start of her journey to change the Slytherin perspective of her.
Descending into the common room, she spotted Miranda Fawley, the female prefect, waiting for her.
"Ms. Granger," Miranda managed to say her name without a sneer. "You're early?"
"I wanted to read my book before breakfast," Hermione replied quietly.
Miranda nodded and gestured to an empty table on the stone dais. Hermione sat down, opening her new book and devouring the information.
Miranda raised an eyebrow at the title but remained silent. Who was she to discourage a girl from learning how to defend herself, even if she was a Muggle-born?
An hour later, the first-years began to rouse themselves, and soon the common room buzzed with anticipation.
"Great, please follow me to the Great Hall for breakfast," Miranda instructed, her male counterpart, Terrence Higgs, standing grumpily beside her.
"Wait!" Pansy Parkinson's nasally voice pierced through the chatter. "Draco hasn't come down yet."
Pansy crossed her arms defiantly, glaring at the prefects.
Hermione sighed inwardly, already sensing the friction between herself and Pansy. Blind loyalty was foolish, and Pansy's mean-girl attitude rubbed her the wrong way.
"Well, we said to be down here by 8 a.m. sharp, and it's now 8:15. Someone else will have to show Draco the way; maybe it'll teach him a lesson," Miranda said firmly.
"I'm not leaving without Draco," Pansy insisted, her tone stubborn.
"Fine," Terrence shrugged, herding the other first-years out the door. As Hermione exited, a second-year boy stuck out his leg, tripping her.
She landed with a soft thud on the stone floor, and muffled laughter erupted around her. Hermione stood quickly, brushing herself off, gritting her teeth.
"Don't worry about it. Accidents happen," she said, forcing a smile before striding past the boy, who looked taken aback.
Miranda nodded at Hermione, a hint of respect rising in her eyes.
Two weeks later when the same boy tripped and fell down the stairs and spent the next week in the hospital wing Miranda laughed in Terence's face as he refused to believe that Hermione had been behind it. "A woman scorned Terry. Never forget that.
Hermione sat alone once again at the breakfast table, slowly flipping through her book of jinxes. The Great Hall buzzed with chatter, but her focus remained fixed on the pages before her.
"What are you reading?" A voice startled her, breaking her concentration. She looked up to see Luna Lovegood, her smile brightening Hermione's day.
"Hey, Luna! What are you doing here?"
"I thought I would sit with you for breakfast, if that's okay?" Luna said, her airy demeanor making Hermione feel instantly at ease.
"Of course! That would be great. How was your first night?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious.
"Oh…" Luna's eyes clouded with a hint of sadness, raising alarm bells in Hermione's mind. "It was great," she said, forcing a wonky smile.
"Though some of the girls seem to struggle with pronouncing my name correctly. Must be the Blibbering Humdingers," she sighed, brushing it off with a whimsical tone.
"Oh, Luna," Hermione replied, her heart aching for her friend. "Well, enough about me. How was your night?"
"It was…" Hermione paused, searching for the right word. "Interesting," she finally settled on, and Luna giggled.
"Look at you, one night in Slytherin and already a master at pragmatism."
Hermione laughed, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. "It's been neither bad nor good. I'm just getting a lay of the land. Professor Snape gave me this book," she added, holding it up.
Luna took the book, her curiosity piqued. "He's not messing around, is he?" she said with a low whistle, her eyes wide.
"What do you mean—"
"Granger!" The sharp voice of Draco Malfoy sliced through the air, and Hermione's heart sank. What could he possibly want with her?
"Now, now, Draco," Luna said in her airy voice, maintaining a calm demeanor. "There's no need to shout."
"Shut it, Looney," Draco sneered, earning a glare from Hermione. Strike one.
"What is it, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, interrupting Luna.
Draco straightened, puffing up with arrogance. "Speak only when spoken to. I don't take my cues from mudbloods."
Strike two, Hermione thought, fury simmering beneath her calm exterior.
She felt her wand slide into her palm, ready to retaliate, when Snape swooped in like a shadow. "Draco, this is your second infraction. Unless you want me to summon your mother personally, I suggest you sit down and walk away."
Draco's scowl deepened, but he nodded reluctantly to his head of house and stalked off, shoulders tense.
"Ten points to Slytherin and Ravenclaw for keeping your cool," Snape said quietly before handing over two sheets of parchment. "Your schedules. I hope you don't mind, Ms. Lovegood, but I asked Filius for yours since you were sitting at my table."
Luna nodded, taken aback by Snape's unexpected kindness. "Thank you, sir, and may I say your head is pleasantly free from wrackspurts."
Snape scowled at the girls and swept away, quickly distributing the rest of the schedules.
"So, what are we working with?" Hermione asked, her excitement bubbling.
"I have Charms first with Hufflepuffs, but not until ten. You?"
"I have Transfiguration with the Gryffindors. Starts at ten." Hermione glanced at her schedule.
"Are we in any classes together?" she asked, offering her parchment.
"We have Herbology on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and Defense Against the Dark Arts on Mondays and Fridays for a double. Oof, double Potions followed by double DADA for you on Fridays." Luna winced, sympathizing with Hermione's fate.
"Oh, we also have Astronomy together every second Thursday at midnight." Hermione frowned; she hated being cold.
"Great! Do you want to head to the library before our first classes?" she suggested.
Luna's face lit up, and the girls quickly finished their breakfast before making their way toward the library.
After their library visit, Hermione left Luna to head to her first class of actual magic, her new dirigible plum earrings swaying as she walked. She made her way towards Transfiguration, her excitement palpable in her coffee-colored eyes.
As she entered the classroom, she spotted a smattering of other students, including three Slytherins—Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise, if she remembered correctly. They appeared quiet, seemingly disconnected from Draco Malfoy's entourage. However, Hermione was quickly learning that Slytherin operated on a hierarchy; she knew those three would flock to power if called.
There were also a couple of Gryffindors, and perched on the professor's desk was a cat with spectacles around its face.
That's odd, Hermione thought, but she shrugged it off, assuming magical cats were different from the ones she knew.
As the class filled up, Hermione noticed that the Slytherins deliberately left the two seats on either side of her empty, as if avoiding her like the plague. She chose to ignore it and read through her Transfiguration book. Gamp's Law—how interesting!
She checked her watch, realizing class was supposed to have begun five minutes ago. The rest of the class was cheerily chatting, and Hermione let out a frustrated huff, her eyes landing on the cat, which seemed to give her an almost human look. Startled, she wondered if magical cats could be human here. Hadn't she read something about that?
Just then, two boys rushed in, patting each other on the back as they congratulated themselves for arriving just in time. She recognized them—Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
Hermione barely caught the cat springing from the desk, ready to pounce on the boys. But before she could react, it transformed mid-leap, and with a small pop, Professor McGonagall stood in its place, looking every bit as strict as her feline form.
The boys froze, terror painted across their faces. Good, Hermione thought viciously. Luna had told her all about Ron, how he'd always mocked her friend for her family's ways and held a grudge for her connection to Draco.
"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, breaking the tension.
"Well, thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps it would be more useful if I were to transfigure you both into pocket watches? That way, one of you might be on time."
"We, uh, got lost," Harry stammered, trying to defuse the situation.
"Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats?" McGonagall shot back, and the two boys scrambled to the back of the room.
Hermione rolled her eyes as the first-year Slytherins snickered. Cunning, ambition, resourcefulness, and power—those were the Slytherin values. You didn't laugh at someone's downfall unless you orchestrated it yourself.
A grin crept onto her face, one that would become synonymous with trouble in her years at Hogwarts. She'd revel in their downfalls.
McGonagall guided the class through different aspects of Transfiguration, effortlessly transforming her desk into a pig and back.
"Now, you'll be changing a matchstick into a pin," she instructed. By the end of class, Hermione was the only one who had gotten it right.
Some Slytherins had managed the shape but not the metal, while some Gryffindors had succeeded in turning it to metal but failed at the shape.
"Ten points to Slytherin," McGonagall said, sounding both impressed and exasperated by Hermione's achievement.
Shrugging off the professor's distance, Hermione made her way out of the classroom, eager to meet Luna for lunch.
"Filthy mudblood." Pansy spat as she pushed past Hermione, knocking her down just outside the Great Hall.
Hermione gritted her teeth, eyes narrowing as she glared up at the girl. Stupid pug-faced witch.
The thought made her smirk. Pansy did have a particularly pug-like nose.
"What's the problem?" Hermione asked, brushing herself off and standing toe-to-toe with Pansy.
The rest of the first-year Slytherins stood behind her, their expressions a mix of curiosity and trepidation. Hermione noticed the two girls from class earlier, along with Theodore and Blaise, seeming nervous at the unfolding confrontation.
Still, they would have to grovel to her once she took over Slytherin's top position. Hermione would show them all what true Slytherin ruthlessness meant.
"I don't like it when mudbloods try to show up their betters."
"Betters?" Hermione sneered, feeling the mask of calm slip away. "When I see them, I won't try to show them up. Until then, I don't take orders from someone who can't even manage basic Transfiguration."
Pansy's face flushed with anger at the reminder of her failure. She stepped forward threateningly, but Hermione simply raised an eyebrow mockingly.
"Is there something wrong here?" The familiar voice of Miranda Fawley interrupted them.
"Yes, but it's of no concern to you," Pansy said, dismissing the prefect with a wave.
Hermione's lips thinned, but she held her ground, continuing to stare down the bigoted Pansy.
"Any Slytherin students trying to start a fight outside of our common room is definitely my concern. Ten points from Slytherin for being rude to a prefect. Now get out of here, and if I see this happen again, I will involve Professor Snape."
"A mudblood lover! Your parents must be so proud," Draco sneered, looking to threaten Miranda.
Miranda's eyes hardened, glaring at the first years, who began to cower under her fierce gaze—everyone but Hermione, who observed the scene with interest.
"My parents are proud, thank you very much. I'm a prefect in Slytherin and continue to uphold the rules our head of house reminded us all about just last night. You, on the other hand, are on your last warning." Miranda offered a frosty smile.
"So, Draco, if you'll follow me, I'll be bringing you to Snape so we can discuss your behavior with your parents." She paused, enjoying the way Draco's face paled.
"You can't do that!" Pansy protested, her voice petulant.
"Ah, Ms. Parkinson," Miranda said, her tone dripping with disdain, "why don't you come along as well? I'm sure your parents would love to hear about your ladylike behavior today."
With that, Miranda glared at the other first years and grabbed Draco and Pansy by their arms, dragging them toward the dungeons.
The remaining first years stood awkwardly across from Hermione, looking lost without their leaders.
"Hermione!" Luna appeared beside her, animatedly recounting her first class until she noticed the tension in the air.
"What's going on here?" she asked, her tone light but inquisitive.
Hermione realized that Luna's peculiarities were often just defense mechanisms, much like her own. They both wore masks.
"Nothing," Hermione replied, dismissing the other Slytherins from her mind. "Some people just don't know when to quit. I've got it all under control."
Luna smiled, aware that Hermione had just orchestrated an impressive display of power among their peers.
As they walked towards the Ravenclaw table, chatting excitedly about their first classes, the first-year Slytherins covertly watched Hermione, perplexed. They couldn't understand how a Muggle-born could display more Slytherin traits in a single day than two students from ancient Slytherin families.