Prologue 3

Draco slumps over in the tight, purple icing-glazed leather chair as his Auntie Bella withdraws from his mind. It's like pulling a Quidditch broom out of mud: which isn't bad, except the mud is half-frozen and you're not wearing gloves.

"You were thinking of her again: how pretty she is, how smart she is, how nice her little flat behind is...blah blah blah," she chortles, circling the chair. "I'm BORED, Dracey! You're not even trying..."

"I am." Draco goes bright red.

"Then why is it so easy," she says, pinching his cheeks, then suddenly thrusting him out of the chair onto the cold marble floor of the Manor. "Your daddy wants me to hewp you hide your wittle thoughts fwom the big, bad wizards...mmm...no fun."

"I did everything you said," Draco repeats for umpteenth time. "Clear the path, don't resist, distract to minor details...distract to minor details...and..."

Auntie Bella's hair frizzles. "Just how often do you think of that Mudblood-"

"Again!"

-x-x-x-

Present Day

Hermione's uniform fits too snug for comfort. Or maybe it's just sweltering hot in Ilvermorny. She takes two short breaths followed by a long exhale, shakes her hair out and quadruple checks to make sure her quills and notebooks are in the handbag.

"Your first class of the day is General Seduction 101 with Professor McDreamy. Ready?" Draco whispers.

She rolls her eyes. "Just wait in the Dining Hall and try not to get yourself kicked out."

"You hurt me, Granger. I can be quite charming...you know?"

"Let's see it then." She waves him off and begins her way to 'Professor Snelling's; class. Anouther pseudonym, what else is new.

Professor Snelling's class is located up in a brightly lit hall in the west wing of the school, no longer the dungeons. The first thing she notices is the open plan seating the Ilvermorny pamphlet boasts in not present in this classroom. All desks face the chalkboard, and spare fountain pens and papers as well as the appropriate materials for today's class have already been meticulously arranged. There is a large open area out front for practice and a variety of shelves with books and artifacts near the door.

"First row. Middle seat. Miss Grabber."

It's a voice that zips up Hermione's spine and tickles her earlobes. "P-professor Sn- Professor. Yes. Yes."

Clearly her throat, tails between her legs, she makes her way straight into the spotlight of Professor Severus Snape's new class. She's surprised she hasn't sweat through her entire uniform at the speed she was moving. As she arranged her books and quills on her desk, female whispers and giggles surround her from all sides. It's nothing Hermione isn't already used to.

"Good morning class." Professor Snape is dressed in a dark tweed suit with a dark shirt underneath. It's got a pointy collar and the regular number of buttons. He's got a cape, but it drapes over the side of his right shoulder, and as soon as he approaches his desk, he throws it dramatically over the edge. Girls gasp and giggle behind her.

Well, they don't have what I've got, she tells herself.

"Without doubt you've all read last night's assigned chapter on the hazard of serpent venom and the hidden dangers of your opponent's familiars during duels." Professor Snape circles to the blackboard, putting down three numbers with brackets. "Who can name me three methods in which familiars help their witch or wizard during a battle..." He scans the room twice over. "Anyone."

Hermione's hand stays glued to her quill, which is glued to her notebook and is pressing a fat ink blot straight through all 500 pages.

"Miss Grabber," rolls the baritone voice of the Professor. "You might like to illuminate us on such a subject?"

Hermione shakes her head, bug-eyed. The Professor's expression stays vacant.

"Perhaps your long Portkey from your previous school had not provided ample opportunity to study your course materials in time for your first class." He smacks his lips. "Pity."

Three hands waving furiously behind her shake some sense into her idiot head, and Hermione all but stands out of her seat. "Professor. If I may."

He nods, letting her magic take over the floating chalk. Hermione writes. "The three methods in which familiars help their wiccans during a battle are with one: providing distraction to the opponent, two: their species-specific hunting mechanisms and three...OUCH!"

She squeals as a tiny, silver snake nips her neck and slithers across the floor onto Professor Snape's hand. He simpers. "The element of distraction prevails. Unlike your previous institution, here at Ilvermorny we value practical application."

Students chattered around Hermione, laughing under their breaths.

"As antidote to your oversight, fifteen points from House Wampus and an in-class essay on the variety of strengths and weaknesses of familiars in duels on my desk before you leave. From everyone."

The entire congregation of students groan and take out their fountain pens and books. As for Hermione, her essay is written on sheets stained by a fat inkblot, which in retrospect does well to cover up the rubbish content on them.

Upon handing in her work and storming down the stairs to the Dining Hall, she greets Draco with a gruff hello and a 'where's that manuscript of yours?'

-x-x-x-

Draco expected Hermione to spend the whole evening writing sex-essays to Professor Snape. Apparently, the deed was done in class, which spoiled all the fun of Draco reading the essay over her shoulder as she ultimately fell asleep mid-work. But now, it also opened up free time for her to read his handiwork.

"You've read it all?" Draco settles down on the sofa. "All three hundred pages?"

"Like it's hard." Hermione Summons the coffee table closer and spreads out the pages. "You've used the same kinds of phrases over and over again in your descriptions-"

"-anyways. What did you think?"

Hermione flips the pages of the book back to the start, beginning at her first set of sticky notes. "Let's start with the protagonist. Drey Maldrick is a full on tosser since the start. He tries to force Henry Porter to be his friend on the train to Pigwarts just because he's famous and then acts like it's all his fault."

"Well yeah," Draco says.

"I ended up hating Drey through the first half, but then..." Hermione's expression softens. "He surprised me. I mean, his backstory with his demanding dad and cold mom made me sympathize for him." She continues flipping the sticky notes. "And after all his work, it's kind of sad all the glory of the Philosopher's Stone went to Henry Porter, Wallace Weaselbee and Herlione Glanger instead of him, just because they were in House Lion."

"You get it!"

They fall into an easy discussion, forgetting the sticky notes completely. Tea is poured for Hermione, hot cocoa for him as they dive deeper into the questioning Headmaster Bumbledore's intentions, whether or not House Snake was treated fairly at the year end feast and if Quidditch was as safe as they made it out to be with the Three Headed Cat and the trials surrounding the Stone.

"Aaaand, now for the big question. What's Drey's deal with Herlione? It's like he has a crush on her."

Draco's cocoa dribbles down his chin. "What makes you say that?"

"It's kind of obvious." Hermione Summons out twenty red sticky notes with page numbers. "He's always going off about how much he hates her, how she gets the highest grade, how she's smarter than everyone, how her hair is that day, how she needs to get her teeth fixed."

"Because he hates her."

"Or..." Hermione raises her brows. "He's in denial about how much he likes her."

"Or all that time spent writing sex essays to Professor Snape has her head in a twist. Girls. Don't. Like. Mean. Guys."

"They sure don't." Hermione's hair rises up like a giant, fuzzy hedgehog. "The least you can say is thank you. Thank you, Hermione for taking the time to read my stupid book."

"Thank you Hermione for taking the time to read my stupid book," Draco repeats in that annoying, high pitched tone that has her storming off into her room, manuscript in hand. She slams the door and he can practically hear her hanging all of her ugly Muggle clothes on the hangers: she's probably re-arranging them by colour too.

He balls up his fists and circles the living room three times. Then, he's at her door.

"Err, Hermione?" he says as she hesitantly opens the door. "You know?" He shrugs. "Are you still mad?"

She exhales deeply. "I've had a really long day, and I'm pretty sure Professor Snape hates me."

"He hates everyone. Even me."And I'm his only Godson.

"The whole Order is counting on me," she says, then shakes her head, forcing a smile. "Anyways. I think you can work on your grammar and remove some repetitive words, but the mystery is good. Especially the part where Drey uses his logic to find out that Professor Quantum was hiding Evil Lord Baldemort under his turban. It's neat that he noticed Quantum always seemed to face people with the back of his head, and that's where Baldemort was!"

Draco grins. "Yeah. I told you I was good."

She crosses her hands. "But I don't know if I'd publish it in the States. I don't think students here would know much about Houses or Points systems. I feel like that's a British tradition. Maybe you can publish it back in London first?"

"So, you liked it?"

"I did."

A/N: It's safe to say Snape still goes hard in his game. Hermione blew her first class, and not in a *good* way (she says waggishly). But you never know! Maybe she's still got a chance! Thanks for reading.