Sixth year starts off with a bang, as the students of Harry's year are re-Sorted, and rearranged a bit. Plus, there's a traitor in Gryffindor House, a new DADA teacher, and much more! And where in the world is Voldemort? *Mostly AU, but some OotP spoilers and mentions*
From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/1147/
Hermione Granger sat at the outdoor table of Florean Fortescues's Ice Cream Parlor, idly nibbling on a chocolate covered raspberry cone as she watched people hurry by, intent on their errands. She was actually waiting for her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasely, so they could go gather their books and supplies in preparation for their sixth year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Hermione had not had a chance to see or talk to her friends all summer-- Harry had gone to the United States with his godfather, Sirius Black, and Ron once again spent the summer in Egypt visiting his older brother Bill, who was a curse breaker. Usually they would have kept in touch by owl post, but Harry's owl, Hedwig, was getting old and could not make the journey,and Ron's owl, Pig, was too tiny as well.
Hermione herself had been busy as well, working at the local Muggle library and just enjoying being sixteen. Despite being the smartest witch in her year and having two boys as best friends (or maybe because of it), she had only really become interested in the opposite sex within the last two years. Gone was the little girl more interested in burying her nose in a book than checking to see if she had a zit on the end of it. Her wavier than bushy brown hair was up in a pony tail, and subtle make up highlighted warm caramel eyes.
With her eyes finally opened to the opposite gender, Hermione had learned to appreciate a good-looking guy. Such as the tall, dark, and handsome wizardstrolling down the street towards her. Hermione arched a brow and pursed her lips in silent appreciation. About 6'2, with tousled black hair and that lazy, prowling saunter that marked him as a confident male in his prime. She could not see his features, as he was busy frowning at a piece of paper in his hands, but she could make out a pair of black glasses. Shock laced through her as she made the connection.
"Harry?" She gasped.
He looked up at the sound of his name, green eyes lighting up as he caught sight of her.
"Hermione! You're early!" He called, lengthening his stride and weaving over to where she was sitting.
She could only gap up at him, hardly able to believe her eyes. Gone was the awkward, slightly self-conscious boy dressed in oversized trousers and baggy jumpers she had met five years ago. Standing before her was a man dressed casually in Calvin Klein’s Wizard Wear khakis and a black t-shirt, which revealed nicely muscled, tanned arms. High on his left bicep was a tattoo of a hawk in flight. She noticed that it matched a smaller silver pendent on a thin necklace around his neck.
"Hermione...Her-mi-own-ninny. HERMIONE!"
Hermione jerked out of her thoughts to see Harry grinning down at her. She flushed, but ignored it.
"You...grew up." She managed finally.
This drew an outright chuckle from him, and he pulled out a chair, turning it around and draping his arms over the back in a comfortable manner.
"Grew nearly a foot." He said cheerfully. "I think I nearly caught up to Ron, and that's saying something."
"Nah, you're still a runt." Ron retorted from behind him. Hermione had not even noticed him walking up. "Hey, 'Mione."
Hermione swiveled around to crane her neck up at him.
"Jeeze. I don't hear from you guys for an entire summer, and all of a sudden you're all grown up." She muttered crossly. The boys exchanged a smug grin, until she added, "unfortunately, I don't think that extends to your brains."
Ron opened his mouth to retort, until Harry stood up and smoothly interrupted.
"Well! The school year has officially begun. Ron and Hermione are back to arguing. The world is right again."
Hermione and Ron swiveled to look at him. He rolled his eyes.
"Come on, you two, let's go." He walked off without waiting for them to reply.
Ron immediately tore off after him--"Oy! Harry! Wait up!" While Hermione followed more slowly. There was something about Harry she just could not put her finger on--something not quite in balance. Of course, for Harry, that could mean anything. After all, this was the Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. When he was barely a year old he defeated the Dark Lord, Voldemort, surviving only with a lightening-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. He did it again at eleven, twelve, thirteen, and fourteen, although that had also resulted in the death of a fellow student named Cedric Diggority. Last year had been a minor battle, but major in victory, resulting in the capture of Peter Pettigrew, the rat (literally) who had framed Sirius for the murder of Harry's parents.
Therefore, as Hermione very well knew, an unusual acting Harry was not a new occurrence. However, this Harry was...harder. More reserved, more honed in a way that made Hermione vaguely nervous. She shrugged it off, and hurried to catch up with her friends, quickly getting caught up in Ron's laughing tales of his summer.
*
For once, the journey from Platform 9 3/4 to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was traveled without incident. Harry, Hermione and Ron managed to secure their usual compartment, and spent the trip speculating about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts and new Care of Magical Creatures professors. Hogwarts had yet to find a DADA professor to last more than a year (four had been servants of Voldemort, andone was a werewolf), and Hagrid, the half giant who usually taught CoMC, was on a special errand for Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Not even their worse enemy, Draco Malfoy, bothered them. Of course, rumor around the train was that Draco was 'otherwise occupied' with Pansy Parkinson, which made Ron nearly snort a Chocolate Frog out his nose.
“Ewww! That’s disgusting! Malfoy and Pansy? That’s low, even for her.”
Night had fallen by the time the train pulled into the Hogwarts Station. Unlike previous years, many parents were too scared to send their children to Hogwarts, so there were no new first years to ride in the rickety boats. In fact, only fifth years and above were allowed to be there; the rest had been transferred to other schools in Europe and the Americas.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron took seats at the Gryffindor table, subdued, yet cheerfully returning greetings to their fellows as they waited for the feast to commence. Instead, Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, stood up and held up his hand for silence.
"Before we begin, I have a few announcements to make." He said somberly. "First of all, in light of recent events, the Ministry of Magic has decreed it necessary to... re-Sort thecurrent students to re-assure them of your loyalty and faith." He raised his hands as a shocked and insulted murmur ran through the Hall. "Please understand, this is just as much for your safety as it is for everyone else's. In this troublesome time of battle and discord, you may have hidden talents that come forth. Those in Hufflepuff may have the courage of Gryffindor. Those in Ravenclaw, the cunningness of a Slytherin, and vice versa."
Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchanged a look. Dumbledore did not give the students a chance to settle down before he nodded to Professor McGonagall.
One by one, the fifth years made their way up front, and put the tattered old Sorting Hat on their head. Most were re-Sorted back into their original Houses. A few, like Ginny Weasley, transferred into Ravenclaw from Gryffindor. Ginny actually seemed rather pleased about this, and quickly took a seat at her new table.
Finally, it was the sixth years' turn. Most of the students again were re-Sorted back into their original Houses such as Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, making everyone relax slightly. After all, if the notorious Draco Malfoy was still a Slytherin snake, then the world was still turning on its axis.
"Ronald Weasley!"
Ron nervously crept up the stairs and sat gingerly on the stool as the heavy weight of the Hat settled on his red head. Nobody could hear what the hat was saying, although Ron’s face flushed as red as his hair as the hat finally bellowed, “Gryffindor!”. He stumbled back to his seat amid cheers from his House mates.
“Hermione Granger!”
Hermione made her way up to the stool. Harry and Ron could see her lips moving as if she were talking to herself, as she had the first time they were Sorted. She gingerly sat, as McGonagall placed the heavy weight of the Hat on her head.
“So,” a small voice said in her ear. “we meet again Miss Granger. I must say, you’ve come a long way. Gryffindor has done you good, and you have proved to have the courage and loyalty to do that House proud. However, cunning and ambition will also serve you well in the upcoming months. Do not disregard the help offered to you.”
And as Hermione sat, frowning at the cryptic advice, the Hat shouted: “SLYTHERIN!”
A hushed silence came over the hall. Hermione Granger, the smartest witch in the school, sorted into Slytherin? Was the hat crazy? Slytherin House was known for two things: turning out Dark wizards and witches (the most notable being Voldemort himself), and having a distinct prejudice against people of mixed parentage (at least one parent was of non magical lineage), as Hermione was. Draco Malfoy was especially biased against what was referred to as ‘Muggle-borns’, the slur of that being ‘Mudbloods’.
Professor McGonagall gently touched Hermione on the shoulder.
“Go sit with your House, dear.” She said quietly, the look in her eyes one of compassion and regret.
Hermione slowly made her way over to the Slytherin table, where the occupants were giving her the evil eye. Draco Malfoy caught her eye and arched a brow challengingly. She found herself lifting her chin and returning his glare before haughtily sitting down. Had she continued to hold his gaze, she would have seen the faint gleam of sardonic approval in his stormy grey eyes.
“Harry Potter!”
Harry warily made his way to the stool, aware of all the eyes upon him. If the Hat had placed Hermione in Slytherin, who knew what it was going to do with the Boy Who Lived?
This time the hat was silent for a long time. Harry had a dark frown on his face, as if he were mentally arguing with it. Finally, the verdict came:
“SLYTHERIN!”
Harry was not pleased at all; he glared at the hat and mumbled something under his breath before reluctantly striding to the table and plopping down next to Hermione. He ignored the stares and glares around him, and pointedly turned to the high table, where Dumbledore was residing. That ever familiar (and occasionally annoying) half-smile was on his face, and the light blue eyes twinkled as he raised his goblet to Harry in silent recognition. Harry humped and turned away, encountering Hermione’s worried expression. He managed a reassuring smile, absently playing with the hawk charm.
“Don’t look so worried, ‘Mione. We defeated a mountain troll when we were eleven—this can’t be much worse.”
Hermione managed a wan smile.
“True. And at least we’re together.”
The two ex-Gryffindors were largely ignored by the rest of the Slytherins for the rest of the Sorting and dinner. The other three Houses weren't nearly so disdainful and haughty in their interest, and whispers filled the Great Hall. Hermione glanced involuntarily over at the Gryffindor table. Ron was staring at her and Harry, a look of disbelief, hurt, and betrayal on his face. She knew ruminants of the same shock was still mirrored on her face as well. Next to her, Harry was broodingly quiet, pointedly ignoring Draco Malfoy holding court at the other end of the table. She sighed, and tried once more to at least attempt to eat--after all, the mouth-watering dinner was the result of House elves hard at work!--before dropping her fork and pushing her plate away. Not even the thought of food and labor going to waste could persuade her to take another bite.
Harry and Hermione were the only new fifth year additions to Slytherin House, as well as the only fifth year changes period. Everyone who had been Sorted into Slytherin House five years ago returned to their House with no hesitation from the Sorting Hat.
The fifth year re-sorting, and the welcome of the first years finally came to an end and Dumbledore released them, postponing the announcements until the next morning to allow fifth year and new students to settle into their new Houses. Harry and Hermione lingered behind, wistfully watching their friends walk out the double doors that would lead up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. Ron glanced back and murmured something to Neville Longbottom before walking over. The three friends looked at each other awkwardly before Ron spoke.
"You should protest," he burst out. "The Hat is completely nutters to put you two in Slytherin! Harry, you're practically the epitome of a Gryffindor, especially after the Chamber of Secrets and getting Godric Gryffindor's sword and all that, and Hermione, you should be in Ravenclaw if you can't be in Gryffindor! There's got to be some kind of mistake! C'mon--I'll go with you to Dumbledore's office."
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," a cool voice drawled from behind them.
The trio glared at the intruder, but Draco Malfoy just smirked and crossed his arms. "Potty, Weasel, and the Mudblood aren't happy with something, so they're going to run to the Headmaster and complain. How typical."
"Shut up Malfoy," Ron snarled. "Even you can't disagree that Harry and Hermione are supposed to stay in Gryffindor where they belong rather than be a Slytherin snake."
Malfoy bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile. "Ah, yes, Weasley, but unlike you I can still find some sardonic enjoyment in the whole situation. After all, Saint Potter and grungy Granger were just permanently tainted tonight by being chosen for Slytherin House. Even if by some miracle Dumbledore allows you to return to Gryffindor, no one will ever look at either of you the same way again." He shrugged. "But sure, go ahead, run to that Muggle-lover Dumbledore. You two wouldn't last one night in Slytherin anyway." He turned and strolled away, leaving a very red faced Harry and Ron behind him. His parting comment floated back to them. "Although, if you go to Dumbledore, you might as well ask if you can be put in Hufflepuff, since that famous Gryffindor bravery is clearly lacking."
"And what's that supposed to mean, Malfoy?" Harry snapped, ignoring Hermione's tugging on his arm.
"Come on Harry, let's go, he's just trying to get a rise out of you--"
Malfoy turned back and rolled his eyes. "Come on Potter, even you aren't that dense, are you? It's obvious--you and Granger are too chicken to stay in Slytherin."
He saw Harry's jaw clench and smirked, stepping forward until he was face to face with the dark haired boy. "The Hat saw something in you tonight, something dark," he whispered softly, "and you're so desperate to keep your goody-two-shoes image of Dumbledore's favorite boy that you can't stand that maybe, just maybe there's some things even you can't face. You're afraid Potter, afraid that if you stay in Slytherin you'll be tempted toward exploring that darker side--"
"I'm not afraid," Harry interrupted, nettled by the blonde's words.
"Well, if you're not afraid, then say goodbye to the Weasel, and let's go," Malfoy answered smoothly. "You made the wrong choice in friends that first year on the train Potter. This is your chance to redeem yourself."
Hermione and Ron held their breath, waiting for Harry to explode. His temper had gotten more and more unpredictable within the last couple of years as a result of the frustration of Dumbledore and everyone trying to hide information about the Dark Lord's return and whereabouts, and he had a habit of taking it out on friends and rivals alike.
I need to distract them somehow, Hermione thought frantically.
As Harry opened his mouth to respond, Hermione stepped between the two boys, unmindful of the fact she barely came up to their chins.
"Oh, grow up Malfoy!" She snapped. "You too Harry! Everything is always about you!"
Harry, Ron, and Malfoy stared at her in surprise.
"Hermione--" Ron began tentatively. She ignored him, jabbing her wand sharply into Malfoy's stomach. She went to do the same to Harry, but he jumped back.
"What the bloody hell is wrong with you Granger?" Malfoy complained, rubbing his stomach where she had poked him.
"I've had enough!" She answered shrilly. "It's always Harry this, Harry that. Harry bloody Potter got re-sorted into Slytherin. Big deal! So did I! And usually I would be freaking out--"
"You're doing a pretty good imitation of it right now," Malfoy muttered.
"--but I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm irritated, and quite frankly I don't feel like listening to you two snap and snarl at each other like two male dogs! In case you haven't noticed, there's a war going on, which is why we were re-Sorted in the first place! Which means that we all have a hell of a lot more important things to focus on than this silly little feud! So, we're going to do things my way right now. Ron, go to Gryffindor Tower." She forestalled any type of protest he may have made with an icy glare. "There's nothing you can do tonight. We'll see you tomorrow at breakfast. GO!"
There was no arguing with that glint in her eyes. Ron glared at Malfoy and walked away, glancing over his shoulder as he left. As soon as he was gone, Hermione turned that icy glare on Harry and Draco. Both boys involuntarily stepped back a step.
"Now," she said quietly, " you two are going to call an end to this stupid feud once and for all. You don't have to like each other, you don't have to become best mates or even acknowledge each other existence. But what you will NOT do is physically hex, curse, or maul each other in any way--or egg your friends on to do it for you," she added sternly as Malfoy smirked. "I refuse to stand by anymore and see innocent bystanders hurt as the result of you two when there are innocent people dying as we speak!"
"And just what gives you the power or right to order me around like this, Mudblood?" He sneered.
There was a flash, and the tip of Hermione's wand was resting lightly in the hollow of his throat.
"Because whether either of us like it or not, I'm a Slytherin now, and Slytherins use any means possible to achieve their ends. Which means that if I hear that word come out of your mouth again I not only could, I would hex you into the middle of next month without hesitation," she replied sweetly. "Now, do we have a truce?"
Harry had been watching the entire exchange with an expression of mingled shock, amusement, and horror on his face. He met Malfoy's gaze squarely, and a long assessing look passed between them. Harry arched a brow in silent challenge.
"So no physically hexing, cursing, or mauling each other?" Malfoy drawled. "Hm. That leaves verbal insults and curses. Better brush up on your vocabulary Potter--if I'm going to restrain myself to verbally insulting you, I at least want a half way worthy opponent. No sputtering and turning interesting shades of red and orange like the Weasel does."
"I'll be sure to practice Mal-ferret, just for you," Harry retorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
Hermione rolled her own eyes as well, glad that they had accepted the truce but becoming increasingly nervous about the amount of time they had spent in the Great Hall. All the other students were long gone, and the long tables were cleared and sparkling once more.
"As fun as I'm sure it would be to listen to you two natter on at each other," she interrupted, "may I remind you that we have classes at eight in the morning tomorrow and curfew starts in exactly" she checked her watch "two minutes! We need to get downstairs to the dungeons before Snape or one of the other professors catch us! I'm surprised someone hasn't said anything already!"
Taking charge once again, she bolted for Slytherin House, the two boys hot on her heels. In the shadows a lone figure watched them leave. Chuckling to himself, Albus Dumbledore shook his head. "Well, you devious old Hat," he murmured, "it seems you have made the right decision after all. I just hope Miss Granger is up to the challenges ahead."
Hermione hadn't known what to expect upon her first glimpse of the Slytherin Common Room, having had to depend on rumors and the annoyingly sparse details Harry and Ron had provided after their masquerade in second year (Sure, they were kind of busy trying to find out if Malfoy either knew who the Heir of Slytherin was, or was the Heir himself, but still!). Whatever she had expected, it definitely didn't match the scene before her. Coldly elegant, the large room was swathed in rich colors of emerald green, silver, and black, making the shadows appear even darker and more imposing. Hermione suppressed a shiver, despite the fire crackling in the fireplace at one end of the room. Although it exuded wealth and nobility, there was none of the welcoming warmth she had come to expect from Gryffindor.
"Nice of you to join us," an oily voice said from the shadows, and Severus Snape glided out to block their path.
"S-sorry, Professor," Hermione answered, nearly choking on the words, "we got lost, and Malfoy came and found us and led us down here." She swallowed hard, fighting down the bile rising in her throat both from having to lie and having to give Malfoy undue credit.
Snape turned his beady black gaze on Harry, who glared right back but didn't say a word, although that was probably more because of Hermione's heel pressing warningly on his toes than from actual respect.
"Don't let it happen again," he finally growled. "Since the re-Sorting was an unexpected occurrence, we do not have any open beds in any of the sixth year rooms. Therefore, Potter, you will share the prefect room with Mister Malfoy on the boys' side, and Granger, you will share with Miss Zabini until further arrangements are made."
Hermione frowned; As far as she could tell, the dark haired Slytherin glaring from the shadows was very definitely male, so who was this Miss Zabini? Before she could inquire, Snape continued.
" Your things are already there, as well as an extra bed." Ignoring the look of horror on Harry's face as he realized that he would be living with Malfoy, he continued, "do not think that this means you two are entitled to any special privileges." His eyes glittered maliciously as he said the last part, his gaze locked on Harry's.
Hermione could almost hear what he didn't say; the rest of the world may think you're a celebrity, Potter, but to me you're just a good for nothing, spoiled little boy with a hero complex. Snape had an intense hatred for anything and anyone Potter related, stemming from the instant rivalry he had had with Harry's father James during his years at Hogwarts.
"Mister Zabini, you will introduce Miss Granger to her new room mate, and then you are all dismissed. I expect you all to be showered, dressed, and down to breakfast by seven sharp. Good night!"
And with that confusing statement, he departed in a swirl of black robes. Draco and Blaise exchanged a meaningful look and smirked gleefully before turning to their charges.
"Potter, come with me," Malfoy ordered. "Granger, stay here with Zabini."
Harry didn't budge. "I thought Pansy was the sixth year female prefect," he said coldly. "So who is Hermione sharing a room with?"
"None of your business Potter," Blaise snapped. "Enough with the protecting the Mudblood from the big bad Slytherins. Don't worry--I promise she'll still be in one piece in the morning. Right now it's late, and you are not exactly in a position to be demanding answers, so quit being so bloody Gryffindor-ish and for once just do as your told!"
Harry lunged; Hermione sighed and drew her wand.
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" The spell came simultaneously from three throats.
Three immobile bodies toppled to the floor. Hermione looked down at the bodies of Harry, Blaise, and Draco, and then up at the young woman and manwalking gracefully toward her.
"I apologize for my brother and his friend," the strange girl said. Her voice was low but musical, almost like a cat's purr. Offering Hermione a tentative smile, she added, "My name is Catrina Zabini."
Hermione blinked, for once at a complete loss for words. Catrina's smile widened, making her look feral. "Don't worry. I don't bite--at least, not hard."
This day just gets better and better, Hermione thought dazedly. She took a moment to study the pair as the young man strolled over and examined Draco, Blaise, and Harry in turn.
"Don't scare her already Cat--we give the ickle firsties a two day grace period, so at least give her the night to get half way settled before corrupting her," he scolded with a smirk that Hermione recognized instantly.
What's worse than one Malfoy? TWO Malfoys! Ron's voice echoed in her head and she stifled a groan. Enough of this. Time to take charge again.
"I apologize for my friend as well," she finally responded, not pocketing her wand. "Harry and Draco have had a feud going from near the first moment they entered Hogwarts, and with the events of the past year, the animosity has grown rather than waned, I'm afraid."
"Ah, yes. So this is the infamous Harry Potter that's given Voldemort a run for his money so many times? Huh. Well, I'm not particularly impressed, but maybe that's because the drool kind of spoils the whole Boy-Who-Lived hero image. Are you three going to play nicely, or shall we leave you for Professor Snape to find in the morning?" The young man addressed the three prone figures. "I'm sure he would not be pleased to find that not only did you three get outwitted by a couple of fifth years, that you were drooling on his pristine carpet. You know how fickle he is about these things."
Cat snickered. "Luc, quit rambling and get on with it. I'm tired, Granger here is probably exhausted, and I still have a History of Magic essay I have to finish before class tomorrow."
Luc sighed theatrically. "You're no fun, Trin. I'll float them up to their rooms--Snape put Muggle locks on the doors and spelled them so that they would lock from the outside during curfew. At least then we won't have to deal with them until morning, and we'll nip out early for breakfast. Alright?"
Hermione and Catrina nodded. Once all three bodies were floating, Luc directed them single file toward the stairs.
"Night Blaise. Night Draco. It was nice to meet you Harry. I'm sure I'll be seeing more of you soon," Catrina called cheerfully.
Hermione winced as Harry's head hit the wall as Luc maneuvered him around the turn to the second floor.
"Well," she said slowly. "That was ... interesting. Um, thank you for helping out tonight..." She trailed off, not knowing what to say.
Catrina yawned. "Mm. Not very Slytherin-ish of us, was it? Oh well. Come on, I'll show you where our room is. I hope you don't snore; the last room mate I had snored terribly!"
"No, I don't snore...at least not that I know of," Hermione replied in bemusement, following the younger girl up the stairs.
"I'll be sure to tell you if you do, never fear. Ah, here we are." Catrina opened a door and stepped back to let Hermione enter. "This used to be a standard dorm with four beds and all that, but some of the students transferred, so there's more room for us that's left. Most of the girls were happy sharing, so they stayed four to a room, but I like my space so I managed to wheedle this two-fer outta Snape. One of the few advantages of being a Zabini; by the time they got to me, this was what was left, anyway."
Hermione just nodded.
"I took the bed by the window, so that one is yours. All of your books and things are in the trunk already, along with new uniforms. Um, I like to sleep in as late as I can, so if you want first shower, be my guest. Keep your things neat and on your side of the room, and we'll get along just fine. Got it?"
And with that, she climbed into her bed, pulling the covers over her and the hangings closed. Hermione stared at the bed for a moment before heaving a quiet sigh and following suit. Catrina was a very quiet sleeper, quite unlike the soft snoring and breathing of Hermione's room mates in Gryffindor Tower. She wondered if they had found someone to replace her in the room, or if her comfortable four-poster was empty and cold, as cold as she felt inside.
Although surprisingly warm for the dungeons, she still suppressed a shiver, thinking about facing her class mates the next day. Plus she had to deal with Harry and Malfoy. For the first time in her life, Hermione was not looking forward to the first day of classes..
The next morning, Hermione was up early, as was her habit. Catrina was still sleeping soundly as she sleepily gathered her toiletries and clothes and quietly made her way to the bathroom. Being somewhat of a night owl, mornings weren’t her favorite time of day, but long habit enabled her to shower and dress quickly and neatly. After confining her wild curls into some semblance of order (which she knew wouldn’t last past breakfast), she took a long look in the mirror before returning to the room. It was strange, seeing herself in sliver and green instead of the cheerful maroon and gold. The emblem on her cloak only reinforced the fact that yes, she was in fact a Slytherin now, as she had told Malfoy, whether either of them liked it or not.
Catrina hadn’t moved. Hermione watched the girl thoughtfully for a moment, wondering if she should wake her up. After all, they and Lucien had planned on skipping out early so as not to deal with the wrath of Harry, Draco, and Blaise before breakfast. Still, she didn’t know the younger girl and wasn’t entirely convinced of her intentions even after the events of the night before. Luckily, the clock on the nightstand made the decision for her, clocking over to 6:15 and going off with the force of a fire alarm. Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin, automatically going for her wand. The stream of curses coming from the bed, however, shocked her out of her, well, shock. She listened in horrified fascination.
“---gods-be-dammed, bloody arse clock! Can’t a girl sleep in for ten more minutes?” Catrina grumbled, throwing the covers off and stumbling to the bathroom without even acknowledging Hermione’s presence.
Despite herself, Hermione snickered, and settled down to wait. Twenty minutes later a damp but awake Catrina emerged.
“And a good morning to you too,” Hermione said with a grin.
The younger girl winced, tying off her French braid and tossing it over her shoulder. “Morning. I should’ve warned you; I’m a bear in the morning. It’s not a good idea to speak or have anything to do with me until I’ve had a shower at least.”
“I figured as much,” Hermione laughed. “It’s nearly seven. Do you think we’ll escape unscathed?”
It felt like a whole field full of Snitches were fluttering and diving in her stomach. Hermione mentally snorted Ron and Harry would appreciate the description more than she did.
Catrina groaned. “Probably not. We better nip down there and see if Luc is still in one piece.”
Hermione followed her room mate down the stairs, wand in her sleeve. She really didn’t want to start the morning with a hexing, but if certain sixth-year boys were still being pig-headed, well, hexing was one of the only ways to get through to them. She waited impatiently by the portrait-hole as Catrina hovered by the stairs, waiting for Luc. He finally appeared, glancing apprehensively behind him.
“I heard movement in their rooms, but no one appeared! Let’s move, quick!” he hissed, and the two bolted for the exit.
They were half-way across the room when Catrina stopped in her tracks.
“Hey!” She tried to move her feet, but they were stuck—literally—to the floor.
Beside her, Luc was struggling just as hard.
“Well, well, well,” Draco Malfoy drawled from the stairs, “look what I caught.”
Catrina and Luc exchanged a nervous look and gulped.
“Going somewhere little sis?” Blaise purred, circling around her like she was a tasty rabbit and he a panther about to pounce.
Hermione raised her wand, not sure what she was about to do was the right (or smartest) thing, but not about to let her rescuers and only allies so far be left to whatever fate their angry older siblings had in mind.
“Finite---“
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Harry said from behind her, stepping through the portrait hole, wand at the ready.
She jumped and whirled around to face him. Seeing the gleam in his eyes, she backed up, inadvertently ending up in the center of the room with the other two hapless victims.
“Harry, I—“
“Don’t.” He held up a hand, green eyes glinting dangerously behind his glasses. “Just…don’t.”
Hermione pursed her lips, but remained silent. Satisfied, Harry arched a meaningful brow at Draco.
“We’re going outside by the lake. Have fun you four. Malfoy, Zabini, don’t kill them. It’s too messy, and you don’t have enough time before class.”
The two fifth-years paled at his words, while the older two boys smirked evilly. Blaise pointed his wand at the carpet by Hermione’s feet and muttered something, enabling her to walk normally once again. Harry motioned for her to step through the portrait-hole, wand still pointing steadily at her. As she passed, he took her wand and pocketed it, before following her silently out.
“Harry—“
“Do. Not. Speak. Until. We. Get. To. The. Lake,” he growled.
She bit her lip, automatically smiling wanly at the students she recognized, all the while aware of Harry prowling on her right side, a step behind as they made their way silently out to the lake. When he stopped she did as well, not daring to speak. She watched warily as he paced, unbending enough to lean against a nearby tree, but not letting her guard down one whit. He saw the cautious look and sighed, stopping to face her.
“Don’t worry Hermione. I’m not going to bite. It’s just…what the bloody HELL were you thinking last night?” He exploded, running a hand through his already disheveled black hair before beginning to pace again. “Dammit Hermione, you could’ve gotten hurt! What if Malfoy had thrown a punch while you were in the way? Hm? Or tried a curse? His father is a bloody Death Eater, he probably knows some nasty spells--“
Her jaw dropped. “Is that what this is about?” She interrupted furiously. “That I might have gotten hurt because you are too damn bloody stubborn to control your temper for once? You didn’t believe that I could take care of myself? You have another think coming, Harry James Potter, if you thought that I—“
“I thought you had betrayed me!” He shouted. “The way you jumped in and threatened to curse Malfoy so easily, and then with Snape later, and then Petrifying me, you just fit in so easily, and I didn’t know what to think!”
She stopped in mid-tirade, eyes wide.
“I asked the Sorting Hat why it had put you in Slytherin,” he continued, more quietly. “It wouldn’t give me a straight answer, just some cryptic advice about keeping your friends close, and your enemies closer, and something about not everything is what it—or they—seem.” He sighed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “I just…with that, plus trying to deal with Malfoy…” He trailed off.
Hermione stepped forward until she was standing directly in front of him, although he avoided her gaze.
“Harry James Potter,” she said sternly. “I am still a Gryffindor, not matter what that old Hat says, just as you are. Last night was just me bluffing, caught up by the heat of the moment. I’m your best friend Harry, no matter what happens or which House you’re in. I’m not going to betray you or walk away and leave you alone. Believe that.”
Harry reluctantly looked up to see warm brown eyes watching him steadily, full of compassion and understanding.
“We’ve been friends for six years now. If you haven’t gotten rid of me yet, you’re not going to.” A glimmer of a smile appeared. “Not even when you’re being hotheaded and bloody minded and the only way to get through to you is to knock you upside the head.”
The tension broke, and Harry smiled ruefully.
“Apparently. I have the lump to prove it,” he answered, rubbing the back of his head.
Hermione winced. “Actually, that would be when Luc was floating you three upstairs. The corner was kind of tight.”
“Hmph.”
When she would have turned toward the castle and breakfast, he stopped her.
“Hermione.”
She turned, tilting her head to the side. “What?”
“So…we’re alright then? You and me?”
A bright smile lit her face, making Harry’s heart leap in his chest.
“Yes Harry. We’re alright. Now come on. We’re going to miss breakfast, and we still need to get our schedules for the year. Plus Ron might be going on a rampage if we don’t make an appearance.” She turned once again for the castle. With a sigh and inward smile, Harry followed suit.