1,718Author's Note: Thank you so incredibly much to all of you lovelies who take the time to read my stories. I love reading your thoughts, your theories, and your ideas! Extra special hugs to the guest reviewers who I cannot respond to personally :) And to the silent readers and followers, much love as well.
Thanks to LaBelladone x for her keen eye.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.
Hermione slipped into her first Defence Against the Dark Arts class the next morning just in time. Her second night in Ravenclaw had been nearly as disconcerting as the first and as a result, she had left her quill in her dorm.
The class was nearly full when she arrived; Helena was sitting at a table with Heath Blakely and one of the other Ravenclaw girls in their year, a redhead named Tania Randall. Hermione glanced around, noting with some discomfort an open seat beside Malcolm, the boy who had spoken to her in Magizoology the day before.
Pretending she hadn't seen, Hermione was surprised to notice an open seat beside Malfoy. He was watching her, one eyebrow raised. With a subtle tilt of his head, he indicated the space next to him.
She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes wide before she slipped into the seat beside him. He rolled his eyes, pulling a quill and inkwell from his bag.
"Remember, people here think we're friends," he muttered under his breath. "Or at the very least, that we get along. Unless you keep acting like it's a huge bloody deal, of course."
Hermione didn't have to look at him to see the smirk on his lips.
"You're right," she conceded, not wanting to initiate a spat. She placed her supplies on the table next to his, trying not to recoil on instinct from his close proximity.
"Library today, after supper?" he asked. "See if we can't find a way out of this situation."
Hermione nodded in a non-committal sort of gesture. "Fine by me. The sooner we begin, the sooner we know what we're working with as far as research materials."
"Exactly," he said with a nod.
Then the doors flew open and Hermione felt her breath catch as the figure of Godric Gryffindor strode to the front of the room, looking every bit as intimidating as he had at the feast two nights prior, his robes billowing about him.
"Welcome to your seventh year Defence Against the Dark Arts class," Gryffindor began with an assertive grin. "This year, we will study many complicated spells. I would advise you to pay attention, as they may one day save your life."
He looked around the classroom, assessing each student. Hermione glanced to Malfoy, who was looking at Gryffindor with something unrecognizable in his expression.
"We will begin with a tale." With a wave of his wand, an image materialized on the wall behind the professor. A small, foreboding spit of land, the ocean spray breaking hard upon its shores. Hermione thought she recognized the image but couldn't place it.
"This is an island in the North Sea," Gryffindor began, "and it is told that its first inhabitant was a wizard called Ekrizdis, who practiced untold and terrible dark magic in an impenetrable fortress he constructed himself. Experiments the likes of which we can only guess." Gryffindor paused for effect, looking once more around the room. "Ekrizdis had made the island unplottable and thus it was never discovered until a hundred years ago upon his death, when the enchantments were lifted."
"Oh," Hermione breathed and Malfoy glanced at her, his expression one of confusion. "Of course."
"The first team to investigate the island never returned," Gryffindor went on. The students were silent, as if none dared to breathe. "The stories told by the next to visit were of terrors beyond measure. The experiments Ekrizdis had undertaken had altered the very nature of the island. It was dark, cold, inhospitable. It had become infested by creatures; wraiths, neither living nor dead."
"Dementors," Malfoy murmured; Hermione nodded, feeling a shudder race along her spine.
"Yes, Dementors," Gryffindor agreed. "Very good, Mr Malfoy. Legend says the Dementors are the restless souls of the Muggles Ekrizdis tortured and murdered there. They feast on hope and the souls of humans."
"Azkaban won't be established as a prison for centuries yet," Hermione informed Malfoy under her breath. "The Dementors are not prison guards, simply feral monsters." He nodded, looking thoughtful.
"To this day, the island remains untouched. But a spell was created, to drive the foul beasts off, to starve them of the positive emotions they so crave." Gryffindor looked around the room. "Does anyone know the spell?"
Hermione glanced at Malfoy who merely stared back at her. She raised a hesitant hand.
"Miss Granger," Gryffindor said with a nod.
"The Patronus charm," she answered. "Expecto Patronum."
"Good," Gryffindor replied, fixing Hermione with a curious glance. "Ten points to Ravenclaw. Are you aware of how to cast a Patronus, Miss Granger?"
"Yes," Hermione said, swallowing a thick lump in her throat. She stood and cast her Patronus before sitting back down.
There was a collective gasp as her wispy, white otter twisted and rolled around the room before dissolving to nothing. Gryffindor looked on in genuine surprise. Malfoy was staring at her with an unreadable expression, somewhere between awe and annoyance.
"Excellent, take another twenty points," Gryffindor said after a moment. "Yes, impressive. Corporeal, even. It has been noted in recent years that the Dementors drift from their island; they grow uneasy and hungry. It may benefit you all to learn the Patronus charm. It is where we will begin our lessons for the year."
Good work not drawing attention to yourself, Malfoy scrawled on her parchment, his script thin and elegant. He was scowling at her as Hermione glanced over, frowning. Perhaps she should have stayed silent, but there was no harm in knowing the answers to a professor's question. Then he rolled his eyes and reached over to write on her parchment again.
But nice Patronus.
Fighting back a smile as she drafted the date atop her scroll of parchment, Hermione moved her quill to reply.
Thanks.
As Hermione walked into her first Potions class that afternoon, she found nerves chasing through her brain. She had made a point to be early and was surprised to see Salazar Slytherin seated at a desk at the front of the room, writing a letter. He glanced at her as she settled into a seat, one eyebrow raised.
"Please come here, Miss Granger," he said softly. Eyes widening in surprise and apprehension, she walked to the front. "You are nearly a quarter hour early."
"I apologize, Professor," she began, "I just wanted to make sure I would find the room, you see."
He waved a hand, dismissing the thought.
"I am hopeful your previous education in the fine art of potion-brewing has been adequate," he stated and Hermione hesitated, not certain what he was expecting her to say.
"I hope so too, sir," she replied.
Slytherin stared at her for a long moment. Then he offered a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"We shall see," he said. "Have you the appropriate materials and ingredients?"
"I believe so, Professor," she responded, silently thanking Malfoy for having the forethought to get her a set of materials as well. She pondered for a moment, still gauging Salazar Slytherin as a person. "Might I ask what we will be preparing today, so that I may prepare my ingredients?"
Slytherin's brows flickered in surprise.
"Very well," he responded, staring at her curiously. "How… studious of you. We will brew an Elixir to Induce Euphoria."
"Thank you, Professor," she said. "Was that all?"
He nodded and Hermione turned to walk to her seat but then he spoke again.
"Your colleague performed very well in my class yesterday, Miss Granger," Slytherin commented and she turned back around. "I have high hopes for you as well. Do try not to let me down."
Hermione chewed her lip then offered him a smile. "Yes, sir."
As she took her seat and began settling in for the lesson, Hermione decided that she certainly couldn't allow Malfoy to best her in this new reality, even despite the fact that they had been getting on moderately well.
Besides that, Hermione fully understood that this first potion was a test; a challenge of sorts. So when she caught the look of pleasant surprise on Slytherin's face as she handed in her perfectly brewed vial at the end of the lesson, she couldn't help the satisfied smile which slipped to her features as she walked away.
Hermione caught Malfoy's eye at the end of dinner; he nodded towards the entrance of the Great Hall, scratching his head. She raised her eyebrows, gathering her things.
"I'm going to visit the library," she murmured in response to Helena's curious glance. The other girl nodded and resumed her conversation with a sixth year.
"Hello," Malfoy murmured as they fell into step with one another. "How were your lessons?"
Hermione glanced over, surprised at his cordiality. She had still suspected it was probably killing him to be friendly to her but perhaps his efforts were genuine.
"Quite well, actually, though I'm going to struggle with Divination," she admitted. While the professor of the course had seemed knowledgeable enough, her own past experiences with the subject were hard to ignore.
"You, struggle?" Malfoy asked with a smirk. "Divination isn't even hard."
"Of course it isn't hard," she retorted, "I've simply never believed in it. I find it to be fallacious and untrustworthy."
"Seriously?" Malfoy asked, turning to her, his expression bewildered. "Divination is credible enough, and the gift of Sight is an ancient magical ability which has always been highly regarded. I'm surprised you don't believe in it, given all that nonsense with Potter and prophecies."
"I'm surprised you do," she replied. "Prophecies are imprecise. Even the prophecy that caused Voldemort to go after Harry in the first place could have been about Neville as well, did you know?"
"I didn't," he said with a vague flicker of interest. "You're obviously judging Divination on the whole by your experiences with that lunatic Trelawney. Much of the art of Divination is extremely sound. The lessons with that centaur were much better."
"I wouldn't know," Hermione said, though a shadow of doubt had crept in at his adamance. Perhaps she would attempt to give the professor in this time – a self-proclaimed Seer – a chance. "How have you found your classes so far?"
"Not terrible," he said with a shrug. "Hufflepuff surprised me. Always assumed she was the harmless, annoying type but her class seems interesting enough."
Despite herself, Hermione snickered at his assessment, partially because she had, almost unwittingly, assumed the same.
"I generally enjoy Runes," he continued, "and Potions with Slytherin was good. He certainly has high expectations."
"Yes, he does," Hermione agreed. "He said you did well in his class, yesterday."
"Wonderful," he said, though he seemed to swell almost imperceptibly with pride. Hermione rolled her eyes at his reaction.
She had almost forgotten their aim as they arrived at the library, having been caught up in a halfway decent conversation with the blond. Nerves gripped her as they stood at the threshold of her favourite place in the castle. But before she could consider the challenge that faced them, Malfoy paced forward and Hermione was forced to follow along to keep up.
Her initial thoughts were that the library of this time period was larger than she had expected, though not as comprehensive as the one they had grown used to. But whether or not they would be able to find any resources that might possibly relate to time alteration would be another story.
Each section was denoted by piles of handwritten scrolls. Some were more current while others looked yellowed, their ink faded. Every so often stacks of parchment had been joined and formed into books, bound and coiled with magic.
"Everything is arranged differently," Malfoy noted, his tone tinged with annoyance. He trailed his fingertips along one of the bound books in a reverent fashion. "This is usually the section on Goblin wars. Instead it's… advanced charms."
"We can figure it out," Hermione said, blinking as she tore her gaze from his actions. She examined the surrounding shelves, making a mental note of where each subject was located. Within several minutes, she found Malfoy, gazing at an ancient-looking scroll in the history section. "Malfoy, this way."
"This details the first recorded usages of magic," he breathed.
"Really," Hermione commented, eyeing the scroll with interest. "Truthfully, I had no idea you were such a bibliophile."
"There are a lot of things about me, Granger, of which you are unaware," he clipped, holding the scroll in careful hands. "I do appreciate books and learning, especially in areas of great significance, though I do not rely on them to keep me warm at night, as you do."
"I do not!" she hissed, glaring at his obnoxious smirk.
"Relax," he murmured, rolling his eyes, "I only sort of meant it."
Hermione huffed, shaking her head. "And here I was thinking you were actually trying to be tolerable."
"We all have our limits, Granger," he teased. Looking at his sparkling eyes, Hermione was struck with the sudden thought that perhaps, he was actually engaging her in humour. So accustomed as she was to his malicious brand of snark, Hermione hadn't recognized it at first. Feeling sheepish, she forced a terse smile that she suspected landed closer to a grimace.
"Right, well, I've found the section on time magic. Though I don't suppose we should get our hopes up," she said, and he obligingly followed her through the aisles.
"I see what you mean," he said, jaw clenched. He briefly scanned the handful of small scrolls on the small shelf which held the temporal magic resources. There were only six in total. "Clearly, time travel is not something which is understood yet. Perhaps one of them will help."
He lifted the entire section and with a flick of his wand, they settled on a nearby table. Raising an eyebrow at Hermione, he sat down and selected the nearest resource, beginning to read.
Wrenching herself from the melancholy thoughts that these books weren't likely to help their predicament, Hermione joined him and selected the next in the pile.
Some time later, Malfoy rolled and tied his scroll, taking the next from the pile. He glanced up at Hermione.
"Did you know they celebrate the changing of the seasons here?" he asked, quiet and mindful of the librarian who had lurked past a few times.
"No," Hermione responded, looking up at him. "Where did you hear that?"
"Waldo Baron mentioned it," he said. He paused a moment, looking thoughtful. "Supposedly there is a harvest feast in celebration of the autumnal equinox, and a ball at the winter solstice."
"A ball?" Hermione questioned, wrinkling her nose. "They do this every year?"
"Apparently," he said with a shrug. "They place a lot of faith in astronomical and celestial phenomena."
"Interesting." Hermione gave an absent flicker of her brows. "However, let's hope we aren't still here by the winter solstice."
They both jumped and returned to their studies at the sound of someone approaching. It was Malcolm, the boy from Ravenclaw of whom Helena had warned Hermione. He edged towards the bank of tables she and Malfoy were working at, flashing his crooked teeth as he noticed her.
"Hello Hermione," he said, walking towards her. Malfoy looked up in surprise and Hermione could almost see the mirth in his otherwise neutral expression.
"Oh, hello Malcolm," she responded, making an effort at cordiality. "What are you doing here?"
"I am studying ahead in the curriculum," Malcolm replied with a rather smug grin. He opened his mouth to say more but it was only then the boy seemed to notice Malfoy, who was gazing at him through lidded eyes, unimpressed.
Deflated, Malcolm walked to a nearby table and began scrawling hasty notes on a sheet of parchment.
Over the next fifteen minutes, however, Hermione could feel Malcolm's eyes on hers. She looked up at Malfoy.
"Is he staring at me?" she hissed. Malfoy nodded, making a poor effort to stifle a snicker.
"Looks like you've got a date to the solstice ball, Granger," he muttered, smirking. "The bloke hasn't looked away from you since he got here."
"I haven't," Hermione said with an involuntary shudder. "He's here to do homework."
"Think what you like, Granger," Malfoy said, shaking with repressed laughter. "But I can promise you he isn't here to read ancient scrolls."
Hermione turned back to her studying, huffing, determined to ignore both Malcolm and Malfoy. She only made it through another few inches, however, before the librarian came around and announced the library was closing. Making note of her place, she despondently returned the materials to their shelves.
"Anything?" she asked, looking at Malfoy.
"No," he replied, frowning. "But we still have more to read."
Hermione sighed, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as they left the library when she noticed Malcolm a ways ahead, presumably sulking.
"My apologies, Granger, I should have left you alone to study with your new friend tonight," Malfoy said, laughing at his own joke.
"No, you should not have," she snapped, her shoulders tensing at the sentiment. "Malcolm seems nice enough, he's just quite forward."
"Forward? Seriously?" Malfoy scoffed, his eyes dancing with mirth again. "He's arranging your betrothal as we speak."
"I highly doubt that," Hermione huffed with a roll of the eyes.
Malfoy shrugged, snickering. Hermione decided that while he was making an effort not to be horrible to her, she still didn't particularly care to spend time with him and his sense of humour.
"Well, later, Granger," Malfoy said, turning in the direction of the dungeons. He eyed Malcolm with one last sneer of amused disdain, a look that it seemed only he could pull off. "Enjoy your walk back to Ravenclaw Tower."
"Malfoy," she hissed but he was gone.
Within moments, as if sensing she was now alone, Malcolm appeared by Hermione's side.
"Hello again," he said with that same toothy grin. Having been raised by two dentists, Hermione nearly cringed at the state of his teeth.
"Hello, Malcolm," she began.
"Miss Granger," came another voice from behind them, thick with Scottish brogue. Her eyes widened as she turned and saw Rowena Ravenclaw walking towards her. "Might I have a minute?"
"Of course, Professor," Hermione said, shooting Malcolm an apologetic, 'duty-calls' sort of look.
Ravenclaw watched Malcolm as he wandered off, looking dejected, with a twitch to her lips.
"Never mind Mr Herbert, as I am told he cannot resist a lovely woman," Ravenclaw said. Hermione felt a flutter of nerves at the thought of conversing with the brilliant and influential woman. Rowena turned to Hermione, fixing her with dark blue eyes. "I wanted to personally welcome you to Hogwarts and to Ravenclaw house. I feel you will get on in a most excellent manner."
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, tilting her head. "I appreciate that very much."
Ravenclaw began to walk along the corridor and Hermione followed beside her.
"How are you finding Hogwarts so far?" Ravenclaw asked, turning her keen eyes on Hermione once more.
"It's wonderful," Hermione said. "I feel at home already, as if I've been here far longer than two days."
"I am glad to hear it, Miss Granger," Ravenclaw said, with a brief smile. "Please do not hesitate to come to me if you have any questions or concerns."
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said again, smiling. "I am told there will be a feast at the equinox?"
"Of course," Ravenclaw replied, taken aback. "Did you not celebrate the equinox at Castelobruxo?"
"I'm afraid not," Hermione said, wondering how such a tradition had fallen out of favour, given the apparent reverence with which it was treated in this time.
"Well, it is a wonderful feast," Ravenclaw said, her tone brusque. They had arrived at Ravenclaw Tower. "I will said good night, Miss Granger, though I have one last question."
"What is it?" Hermione asked, turning to the founder of her new house.
"At the sorting, I do not believe my companions noticed. However, I am curious as to why you lied about your blood heritage?"
Hermione froze, eyes widened. Ravenclaw's expression was unreadable. She realized she shouldn't have been surprised the woman knew she had lied, given she was the most brilliant witch of this time.
"My parents are Muggles, you see," Hermione said, her voice just above a whisper. "I did not know what sort of treatment I might receive at Hogwarts."
"I understand," Ravenclaw said, her expression softening. "There are those, of course, who believe themselves superior because of their blood. But I think you will find most of the students and professors here at Hogwarts carry no such prejudices."
"I respect that," Hermione said with an appreciative nod.
"And," Ravenclaw continued, "as clearly your parents are not, in fact, curse-breakers, I will allow you to keep the truth as to how you and your colleague Mr Malfoy actually came to know one another. Good night, Miss Granger."
"Good night, Professor," Hermione murmured, but Ravenclaw had already turned on her heel and was gone, her shoes clicking a sharp staccato on the stone floor. Her mind reeled as the climbed the staircase and Hermione almost missed the correct answer to the riddle at the entrance of Ravenclaw Tower.