The peace that being back at Hogwarts brought had Hermione feeling like she could finally breathe again. It was only too easy to fall back into the witch she'd been when she left the wizarding school at the end of her sixth year. It felt good to join her friends and the rest of the seventh year Slytherins for the Welcome Feast and she even heartily cheered with the rest of them as they welcomed a new crop of firsties. Hermione didn't even have to stop herself from veering off in the direction of the Gryffindor table, like she'd done a dozen times the year before.

Regulus and Nella were still the Slytherin Prefects as neither of them had been asked to be Head Boy or Girl — that honor went to a Ravenclaw girl and a Hufflepuff boy, neither of whom Hermione was that familiar with. A small part of her wondered if she would have been asked to be Head Girl if she was still Hermione Granger about to begin her seventh year in 1998. The more practical part of her was glad she was not even in contention for the role, because it would give her more time to focus on her NEWTs.

She had decided to continue with her ambitious plan to take seven NEWTs, even if she knew it would be a lot of work. It hadn't been that unmanageable the year before, especially with two accomplished study partners. She hoped that she would be rewarded for her hard work with a good job once she left school, too.

Hermione was surprisingly grateful to be reunited with the rest of the Slytherin girls. She hadn't had any close relationships with the Gryffindor girls in her dorm, preferring to spend time with Harry and Ron instead. Even Ginny and Luna felt more like close acquaintances than good friends. But, in less than a year, the Slytherin girls had taken her under their wings and welcomed her in, treating her like she had been one of their own from the start of first year.

Their first night back, the dorm mates descended into the room that they all shared, laughing and joking while they unpacked their trunks. Hermione was glad that none of them had anything to say about the shiny new surname plaque on the bottom of her bed — Black. She was certain that they all had seen the change, but none of them had even made a peep.

While the Scottish weather was still cooperative, Hermione was easily convinced to spend the afternoons out on the grounds, laying on conjured blankets in front of the Black Lake, basking in the fading afternoon sunlight. It was there that she caught up on all of the gossip that she'd missed over the summer, too wrapped up in her family's own catastrophes. It's almost nice to hear how ordinary their summer romances and adventures had bee .

It's on the banks of the Black Lake that Hermione giggles over the salacious tale of Elvira's summer fling with an older muggle boy called Graeme and where she swoons with delight to hear of Angus swooping in later in the summer because he missed her so much. Elvira is genuinely happy when she shares that her and Angus are going to give it a proper go this year and try dating.

She also hears about Nella's whirlwind romance with a French wizard who was vacationing in the same spots as her, though her tales are not nearly as racy as Elvira's are. The most that they did was snog for hours on the beach, seeing as the wizard didn't speak much English and Nella didn't speak any French.

Priscilla was looking incredibly sunkissed and refreshed after the summer, even though she hadn't gotten as far as her family's home in Somerset. She was being very closed-lipped about what she got up to, but it was Elvira who eventually smirked and told Hermione what all the fuss was about.

"Oh, she just doesn't want to tell you that she spent the majority of the summer ogling her suddenly fit neighbor while he was running Quidditch drills," Elvira drawled, her eyes darting to Priscilla's face to gauge her reaction. "She doesn't want you reporting to Regulus that she's moved on to Archie Edwards."

"Archie Edwards?" Hermione asked, thinking the name sounded familiar. "Doesn't he play for the Ballycastle Bats?"

"The very same," Priscilla answered, flushed and giddy. "He didn't wear a shirt in the garden all of August," she added, her head dropping back with a sigh.

Hermione also hears about how Mallory met up with Ansel at the Quidditch World Cup. "My dad was gifted tickets last minute and we barely made the international portkey to see the start," she explained. "The game was amazing, but the celebrations after were everything. I met Ansel in the pub with two of his brothers and we spent all night drinking. We ended up snogging in the loos and —"

Mallory cut herself off and looked at Hermione very suddenly. "What?" Hermione asked, confused.

"You don't mind, do you, Hermione?" Mallory asked, looking horribly guilty. "I know that you and Ansel dated last year and I wouldn't want to do anything to upset you, so if it does I'll just have to tell him to leave it alone."

Hermione smiled at her friend. "Dated is too generous a word for it," she answered. "We went on one Hogsmeade date and realized we weren't suited about five minutes in. I am delighted if you and Ansel want to date one another. We spent most of our time talking about Quidditch."

Mallory relaxed, hearing that she was not offended, before a salacious grin came over her face. "Well, I know one way to get him to shut up about the sport now," she teased.

When Hermione thought about it, Mallory was probably the perfect witch for Ansel. She was rather sporty herself and could have had a spot on the Quidditch team if she wanted it. Plus, she had a gaggle of brothers herself, just like Ansel, so she was sure they'd have a lot to talk about on that front.

Just when Hermione was about to be interrogated for all the details about Narcissa's wedding, a shadow appeared over her, cutting off the hazy warmth from the sun. Hermione opened her eyes to see Rabastan standing over their conjured blanket, shooting her a hesitant smile.

"Sorry to bother you, Hermione, but I think we had planned to start our Arithmancy revisions today," he said, not sounding terribly apologetic at all.

She sat up, biting her lower lip. She had agreed to revise for Arithmancy with him after he'd suggested it, hoping to fulfill her promise to Regulus that she would at least try to get along with Rabastan again. It felt dangerous and risky to spend time alone with him — like if she didn't watch herself very carefully, she just might find herself enjoying spending time with him.

"Right," she said. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I was late."

"Oh, you weren't, but I just happened to see you on the way back from the Quidditch pitch and thought I'd ask if you'd like to walk back to the castle with me."

"Well isn't that thoughtful of you, Rabastan," Elvira practically purred, a knowing grin on her face. "I'm sure that Hermione would love to walk back with you."

"I don't want to interrupt your afternoon," he said, even though he already had interrupted them, stopping over like he did.

Mallory giggled. "We weren't doing anything important, just gossiping," she said, shaking her head. "We will have plenty of time for that. In our rooms later."

Hermione knew that coded message was for her. The girls were going to have many questions about her and Rabastan later and she wasn't entirely sure what she was going to tell them. A part of her longed to just come clean about everything. The girls were her friends and surely they would understand. Another part of her wanted to keep this secret as long as she possibly could because if no one knew then it didn't seem as real.

She stood up, seeing as there was no point in telling Rabastan she'd meet him later. The girls would never let that sit. "Right, well, see you all in the Common Room later," Hermione said, waving goodbye to her friends.

"Enjoy your study date," Priscilla called at their retreating forms.

Hermione could feel her cheeks go pink at the word, wondering just what they all were seeing. Was it simply because she was a witch and Rabastan was a wizard? Was it that they were spending time alone together? Was it something else she didn't see?

"Do you mind if we take the long way back around the Lake?" Rabstan suggested. "It will be nice to talk for a bit without Madam Pince hovering."

"I don't mind," Hermione agreed, thinking that it would be nice. There were some things she wanted to talk to Rabastan about without the chance of anyone overhearing.

"So, what were you guys up to?" he asked, as they started walking. The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon and it made him look like he was golden.

She looked up at him and wondered just when he'd grown so tall. He wasn't the tallest wizard, but there was still a good bit of difference between them — enough that she had to look up to see his face properly when they were walking side by side. "Oh, just summer gossip, like Mal said," she explained. "It seems like everyone has found a partner. Vira and Angus are making an honest go of it. Mallory and Ansel, too. Priscilla even has moved on from my brother, it seems."

Rabastan chuckled, hearing that. "Well, I am sure that Regulus will be pleased to hear that," he quipped, knowing that Regulus did not fancy Priscilla.

"She doesn't want me to tell him just yet," she said, fighting a smile. "But, I think that it's good for her. No point in pining over something that couldn't happen."

"Do you... do you speak from personal experience?" he asked, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed thickly, his eyes firmly on the grass in front of him. "Has our turn of fate kept you from someone that you pine for?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, there wasn't anyone else," she explained. Briefly, she thought about Ron, but she was almost certain that wouldn't have gone anywhere even if she hadn't been pulled into the past. "It's not as if Ansel was my great love."

Rabastan looked relieved to hear that. She supposed that she understood. She wouldn't like to think that she was married to someone who was in love with someone else. "Are you going to tell them, about us?" he asked. "You could, if you wanted to."

"I don't want to tell anyone about the betrothal," Hermione said, eyebrows drawn together while she thought over her next words. "Don't you find it odd to be betrothed at Hogwarts? No one else is and I just find it so... so antiquated."

"It is a bit strange to think that we are the only ones betrothed here, but it's not as if we will be the only ones who marry young," he reminded her. "Plenty of our classmates will be getting married after graduation. I don't think that the other girls would find it too strange."

"Yes, but our classmates will have dated the people that they end up marrying," Hermione countered, petulantly, once again hating that her life hadn't followed the typical course. "It wasn't as if their families forced them to do it, just because one of their other family members decided to run off with Voldemort."

Rabastan chuckled. "Yes, that is a pretty unique set of circumstances, Hermione. I doubt you will ever find anyone with the same path as us," he teased with a laugh. His face grew more serious. "A lot of the older pureblood families still practice betrothals, so not every relationship is a love match."

His arm kept brushing against hers as they walked, drawn together by some unseen force. "You could tell them we are dating," he suggested after a few beats of silence. "If you wanted to seem more... normal. You don't have to tell them about the betrothal."

She shook her head suddenly. "I'm not ready for that," she answered, nibbling at her lower lip. "I thought we were still working on the mutual respect phase of our relationship."

He pressed his hand to his heart. "Ouch, we aren't even to the friendship stage yet?" he asked, with a crooked grin. "And here I was thinking that we were friends again."

Hermione felt her heart flutter away seeing how boyish he looked then. Oh, she really wished that she did not know anything about him from the future. "Don't push your luck, Lestrange," she teased back, unable to help herself. "It's only been a week."