A week at Hogwarts had never seemed to drag out quite so long before. Hermione resolved to put the incident with Malfoy behind her by the time their Thursday patrol came around, determined to be overly polite to him instead of disparaging. It seemed Malfoy was content to do the same, and only spoke to her when absolutely necessary. The two hours wore on painfully, but at least they were without occurrence. That, Hermione decided, was a cause for celebration in itself.
Friday came like a sigh of relief. It was only Alchemy that morning, and Hermione found herself looking forward to the class. She arrived early.
Oliver slid into the seat beside her and took note of her textbook propped open. Flashing her a genuine smile, he joked, "Inhale that yet?"
Looking up from the book, Hermione brushed her bangs from her eyes and grinned, "Only halfway-inhaled, actually. I thought I would reserve a lung for breathing. You?"
"It seemed I didn't plan ahead nearly so well." He flicked his wand at his bookbag and his supplies floated out, neatly arranging themselves in front of him. "I almost didn't make it."
"I'm sure the school would have dedicated a park bench to you or something," Hermione answered seriously, though her eyes were smiling. "In memory of Oliver Rivers: a lesson in why you should not inhale your textbooks. How tragic."
Oliver laughed, his blue eyes glittering with amusement. "You're something else."
At that moment, Nott traipsed in and bumped his hip, hard, into the table, jostling everything and nearly upsetting the inkwells. Hermione's textbook ended up in her lap.
"Whoops," he smirked, making his way to his seat at the table next to theirs and throwing his bag down. "How clumsy of me. It seems I was distracted by an uncomfortable amount of vomit-worthy flirting."
Coloring deeply, Hermione glared at Nott. Not for the first time, she wondered how he could have been chosen for Gryffindor. It was even more perplexing than Malfoy being sent to Ravenclaw. Before she could respond, McGonagall made her way into the classroom, accompanied by Professor Babbling, the Ancient Runes professor.
"Good morning," she barked, to a smattering of responses. "I have invited Professor Babbling to speak about runic involvement in alchemy. Let's jump right in, shall we? Has everyone received their copies of the textbook?"
Everyone in the room nodded that they had.
"Excellent. I will assume you have all already read the section about the reasons this subject was doomed to fail in the Muggle world. The chief of these reasons, of course, being because it was based on a misunderstanding of chemistry and physics, coupled with an inability to bind those understandings with magic. It was, however, correctly assumed that the world and everything in it are composed of the four basic archetypes and a collection of essential elements. Can anyone enlighten us as to the import of the work of Empedocles? Mr. Nott?"
Hermione lowered her ready hand and glanced in surprise at Theo, who tended not to answer questions in class if he could help it. Nott smirked, observing that she had taken note of him. "In the 400s BC, Empedocles discovered that all matter is comprised of four roots - those being the four elements."
"And the roots are?" McGonagall prompted, observing him over the rim of her spectacles.
"Well," Theo expanded, his self-assured smirk driving Hermione barmy in annoyance, "fire and air are considered outwardly reaching elements, while water and earth turn inward and this reason, many wizards find the elemental archetypes of earth and water easier to bend to their will, as human beings naturally tend to go inward rather than outward."
Hermione stared. It had been nearly word-for-word how she would have explained it, herself.
"Nicely phrased, take five points for Gryffindor," McGonagall granted. Direct compliments from her were rare, so a few eyebrows raised around the room and even Hermione glanced once more at Nott. McGonagall either did not notice the slight disturbance of the room, or did not deign to acknowledge it. "Yes, Mr. Rivers?"
From beside Hermione, Oliver cleared his throat and ran a hand through his dark hair. "If I understood the assignment for the first half of the year, we are attempting to theorize a way we can harness the elemental archetypes, correct?"
"Yes, although with your current partners, you are not to attempt this yet." McGonagall looked so stern that Hermione felt herself sit up a little straighter. "There can be consequences of meddling with these elemental archetypes before you are ready, which are no laughing matter. Some of your projects during second term may be able to open up these powers. However, without the correct direction of energy, the breaking and creating of bonds is a dangerous business."
The kind of powers the Headmistress was implying about their course of study fascinated Hermione. They were not going to be exploring the murkier aspects of alchemy, but it was a wondrous thing that they were going to be examining the basics of an almost-lost art that had led to the creation of the legendary philosopher's stone…
It's a shame Harry had been obliged to destroy that back in first year, she reflected. It would have made a fascinating study.
For a moment, Hermione allowed herself to indulge in an imaginative fancy of herself taking control of wind currents, ensconced in a veritable tornado that she, alone, controlled. She recalled Harry's retelling of the night he had accompanied Dumbledore into the seaside cave to retrieve the false horcrux. According to Harry, Dumbledore had called upon a fire tornado to banish the Inferi that guarded Voldemort's prize. If Hermione's deductions were correct, the former Headmaster had used his own brand of magic, which was built on alchemal influences, to create such a powerful combination of defense and offense. It certainly would explain how Dumbledore had come to be friendly with someone like the renowned alchemist, Nicholas Flamel.
I love magic, she sighed inwardly. So many possibilities…
She was snapped from her reverie by a wad of paper being flung at her face while Professors McGonagall and Babbling were distracted. Hermione observed that Oliver was scowling at Nott from across the table.
Correctly deducing that it had been the former-Slytherin that had thrown it, Hermione called on her best impression of Malfoy and sneered nastily at Nott. It seemed to work because Malfoy, himself, elbowed his friend in the side and flashed her a quick smirk before turning his head to his work.
Had that been… approval?
Professor Babbling soon began her lecture about the role of runic mandalas in the harnessing of elemental archetypes. Once Nott's head was bent back down at his work, Hermione childishly stuck her tongue out at him. Oliver glanced sidelong at her and grinned.
Once class was over and Hermione began packing up her things, Theo purposefully knocked her table again on the way out the door. Her bag fell to the floor and was retrieved quickly by Malfoy, who was passing through as he followed his friend out. Lifting the bag as if it weighed no more than a feather, a surprised look stole over his features for a moment before he set it on her table.
"So… you did the weightless charm after all," he commented, shouldering his own bag. "It's honestly about time, Hermione."
She stared at his retreating form, as shocked as if he'd called her 'Voldemort.'
He had called her 'Hermione.'
Not Granger. Hermione.
It actually sounded pretty nice when he said it.
The next day, Padma pleaded with her dorm-mates to help her with the planning of the Halloween dance decorations. While Lisa had initially protested ("It's over a month away!") and Daphne had teased her ("You must be really desperate if you're asking for my help on decorating…"), Saturday morning found all five girls in the middle of their dormitory floor, poring over ideas.
Hermione had got ahold of some pastries from breakfast and silently placed the entire plate of them near Daphne. She did not like how little her new friend had been eating lately, though they had both avoided speaking of Daphne's purging habit. It seemed to be an unspoken agreement that they keep the secret between them.
Padma sat cross-legged on the floor, her back against the end of her four-poster as she sifted through pages of scribbled notes in her own shorthand. Sue was nearby, making origami bats from black paper. Lisa was French braiding Hermione's wild hair, while Hermione chose the best charm to place on Sue's bats to make them fly about at regular intervals. Daphne, absentmindedly reaching for a cheese danish without realizing it, cast her own spell on one of the paper bats, which caused it to turn orange.
"Done!" Lisa proclaimed proudly, pulling her hands back from Hermione's expertly braided head.
"Me too!" Hermione seconded as the entire collection of about twenty paper bats began to flap up toward the ceiling.
"Oh, I actually really like the orange, Daphne," Lisa complimented kindly.
Padma glanced up from her work at the room full of origami bats, including one orange one. "Me too! Do you think we can do two-thirds of them black and one-third of them orange?"
"For sure," Sue agreed.
"That's an awesome spell, Hermione," Padma praised. "How long do you think it will last?"
"In theory, at least five or six hours."
"Ooooh, I love your hair," Sue gushed, setting her wand down. Seconds later, her face fell, "Mine would never work."
"What do you mean?" asked Lisa.
Allowing her fingers to run through her shiny, black hair, she lamented, "It's too fine. It never stays in anything other than a ponytail."
"But… magic. Let me try?" Lisa smiled, holding her wand aloft. A moment later, she was sitting behind Sue to complete a similar hairstyle.
Hermione turned to Daphne, "Does it look alright?"
"It's great," Daphne confirmed, handing over a small compact mirror so she could look.
Hermione had to admit, she liked this look a lot better than the straightening charm. While her hair had been manageable and shiny when it was straightened, it also did not feel like it belonged to her.
"Well that's the bats all settled," Padma mused, making a check mark on her list and looking thoughtful. "How many do you think you could make, Sue?"
"A couple hundred between now and then," she answered. With the help of a little spellwork, Lisa was making quick work of Sue's braids. "They aren't difficult, really."
The girls spent another forty minutes lazily discussing decorations. Hermione suggested asking Hagrid to grow his enormous pumpkins for the Great Hall again and Padma readily agreed. Having not had a good chance to visit Hagrid yet this year, Hermione offered to put the question to him. She figured it would be a good excuse for her, Harry, and Ron to get together for a visit, just like old times…
"Ta da!" Lisa announced, having finished her roommate's braids.
"What!" Sue cried in disbelief, scrambling to the nearest mirror. "How…?"
Hermione could not remember ever having done anything like this: sitting in her dormitory with the other girls and just… being girls. When she'd been in Gryffindor, Lavender and Parvati had been best friends, often excluding her from their conversations. Whenever the other two girls had included her, Hermione lost interest rather quickly, as the topics often seemed to revolve around boys, divination, or make-up, none of which Hermione was much invested in. Ginny did not really do things like this either, preferring to be racing around on a broomstick rather than braiding someone else's hair.
"So, Hermione," Padma leaned in with a grin. "I hear you're going with Oliver Rivers to the dance."
"Yes."
"Who asked who?"
Ah, so she was going to be questioned. "He asked me."
Sue's grin spread and she wrenched her eyes away from the mirror to sigh dreamily. "To think it was me that introduced you. Invite me to the wedding, will you?"
"Sue!" Hermione protested.
The other girls laughed and Padma offered up, "I'm going with Anthony Goldstein. He asked me yesterday."
"Oh, I don't have a date yet…" Lisa admitted a little sadly.
"Me either," Sue chimed in solidarity.
They all turned expectantly to Daphne. The former Slytherin cleared her throat and informed them, "Erm, I'm going with Blaise Zabini. As friends."
"Merlin!" Sue exclaimed.
"Wow," Lisa breathed.
Daphne looked confused for a moment. "What?"
"Oh nothing," Sue said airily, with a wave of her hand. "Just that he is gorgeous, in case you haven't noticed. Probably the best-looking bloke in our year."
"I think everyone has noticed!" Padma laughed, raising a suggestive eyebrow. "Ravenclaw blue-and-bronze suits him."
Hermione thought about Blaise Zabini, and decided she could objectively admit that he was certainly better looking than most of the wizards in their year. Practically defining the phrase 'tall, dark, and handsome', he was a stark contrast to Malfoy. Draco reminded her of moonlight, all cool grace, moving through the world with aristocratic ease…
… and he had called her Hermione…
"Earth to Hermione?" Lisa was waving a hand in front of her face.
"Sorry," she apologized.
"I'm starving," Sue complained. "Is it lunch yet?"
With a jolt, Hermione realized they had been in the dormitory since breakfast, hours ago. "Shockingly, yes."
The five girls headed down to the Great Hall and were making their way to the Ravenclaw table when a red-haired tornado slammed into Hermione's side and screeched, "You didn't come!"
"Ow, Ginny," Hermione complained, rubbing her bruised ribs.
"I invited you to come down to the Slytherin dorms last night to hear the Bloody Baron's stories, and you didn't come," Ginny insisted, steering her friend away toward the Gryffindor table where Harry, Ron and Luna were already having lunch.
Hermione looked over her shoulder as she was led away and mouthed "Sorry!" at her dorm-mates. It seemed Daphne had been accosted by Millicent Bulstrode in a similar manner, so Padma, Lisa and Sue joined up with Parvati.
"It was after curfew," Hermione explained to her friend.
"That didn't stop you for the party!"
"Yes, well, I've wondered if that wasn't a bad idea in hindsight, too…"
"For Agrippa's sake, Hermione, you're incorrigible…"
"I'm a prefect," she insisted as they approached the table.
"Hi, Hermione," Luna greeted dreamily. "I like your hair. The braids look like the summer plumage of a mature fwooper."
Ron, whose spoon was halfway to his mouth, stared at Luna. "Is that… a compliment?"
"Oh, yes," she replied simply, turning back to her pudding.
With some sadness, Hermione noticed Ron was not meeting her eye. This was something he had been doing all week, ever since she told him she would be attending the Halloween dance with someone else. It seemed Ron was unable to get over this second rejection very easily. Focusing rather intently on his soup, he muttered darkly, "Ditching us for the eagles a lot these days, Hermione…"
"For heaven's sake, Ronald, I'm a Ravenclaw now. Of course I have been spending time with my house-mates."
"Yeah, but dorms and classes aren't enough? You have to ditch us during the Baron's thing… and just hanging out?"
"You can't begrudge me making new friends," she protested, growing infuriated when he would not even look at her as he argued. "Don't pretend the whole point of the re-sorting wasn't to make new friends and forge new alliances."
Ron grit his teeth and turned slightly red, though he seemed to have successfully bit back whatever comment he wanted to say.
"Is this about the fact that I already had a date to the dance?"
Ron colored even deeper, staring exclusively at the table now. "Of course not. It just seems like you're ditching us a lot for your new Ravenclaw friends…"
"Yeah, well, you all know someone in your new House, don't you? Harry has Ginny and Dean, while you have Seamus," Hermione pointed out. "I am - quite literally - the only Gryffindor from our year that's now living in Ravenclaw Tower. I had never even met two of my dorm-mates at the start of term, and one of the others disliked me for being Muggle-born. Forgive me if that doesn't seem like a fun way to spend my year."
"We aren't trying to beat up on you," Ginny soothed, jumping in as she realized Ron was blundering through the conversation by butchering the real point. "But why didn't you come last night? You could have spent a good time with us."
"I haven't really felt a lot like myself ever since the re-sorting. It's messing with my head more than I thought it would," she admitted. Hermione thought of Malfoy's words on their prefect patrol: You never struck me as a hypocrite, Granger. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she was not really sure if she was speaking to him or to her friends, when she explained, "I guess I just decided to stop being a hypocrite. I am a prefect; I'm supposed to be adhering to the rules, setting an example. The war has changed me - changed us all - but it shouldn't be able to have that much sway. It shouldn't cause me to lose who I am."
Luna, who had been relatively engrossed in her pudding until that moment, spoke up, "It's how we choose to carry the past that affects us now."
"That's… very true," Hermione agreed. It was easy to forget, at times, how wise and insightful Luna could be.
"You know we love you, right?" Ginny queried, raising a rust-colored eyebrow at her friend, as if challenging her to argue the point. "That's the only reason we're harping on you…"
Harry nodded. "It's not because we're really mad. We just miss you."
Smiling, Hermione leaned over to hug him, then Ginny. Ron and Luna were sitting on the opposite side of the table, which provided a good excuse for Hermione not to embrace them, too (Ron still was not meeting her eye and Luna had floated back into the murky depths of her own imagination).
"I think we're due for a visit to Hagrid's, don't you think?" she suggested. "Just like old times?"
"That sounds perfect," Harry decided, grinning at her. "We can go after lunch. Maybe this year, he'll be raising something even more dangerous than the usual."
"Like a nundu," Ginny suggested cheekily.
"Or a manticore," Hermione added, exasperated but smiling.
Ron gave a weak chuckle and finally lifted his head up to offer Hermione a half-smile. "Let's not even joke about that…"