Hermione bit her lip and mumbled to herself as she carefully read the text in her Potions book, trying very hard to ignore the petulant, blonde-haired, former ferret sitting precariously on the stool next to her. It was bad enough that Gryffindors had to spend Potions with the Slytherins, but being forced to work with the prince of Slytherin himself was uncalled for and frankly, in her opinion, pure cruelty.

“See! I told you, Granger. It has to brew for five hours, not six. Though, I must say, I’m not surprised that a Mudblood like you isn’t able to read a simple text book,” Draco sneered as he crossed his arms over his chest and gave a triumphant smirk.

Hermione gritted her teeth and cursed silently while she read over the neatly printed text again. She looked carefully at the directions and ingredients listed in her book and mulled over the words to find where she had seen the proper brewing time.

Sure enough, there was a neatly written six covering the originally printed five in her book. It was very well done, though, and Hermione could see how she had missed it in the first place. No doubt the work of a Slytherin, she thought.

Draco eyed the disgruntled look on Hermione’s face and chuckled. He loved how easily he was able to get on her nerves.

“Shut up, Malfoy! No one’s interested in what a prat like you has to say!” Hermione retorted. She refused to give any indication that she had fallen for such a silly prank. Instead, she kept her eyes glued to her book, determined to keep Draco from receiving the pleasure of her disappointment.

Draco snickered and folded his hands behind his neck as he leaned back in his stool, supporting his weight on the two carefully balanced legs.

“What’s wrong, Granger? Upset that you’ve been outsmarted?” Draco chided.

Hermione seethed in anger as she tore her eyes from her book and watched Draco close his eyes and display a cocky grin as he leaned back in his stool. She quickly eyed the two wobbly legs that were supporting the full weight of her nemesis and sprouted a small, malicious grin.

Without thinking, Hermione swiftly kicked the legs out from under Draco and he went crashing to the dungeon floor, sprawled out in a heap of blonde hair and black robes. Hermione chuckled as she saw the expression of complete humiliation and shock that registered on Draco’s sharp features.

Upon seeing the great Draco Malfoy take the plunge to the stone floor, the entire class, though mostly the Gryffindors, erupted in roars of laughter and cried praises to Hermione.

Draco, still flustered, forcefully heaved his body up from the ground and glared daggers at Hermione.

“You’ll pay for that, Mudblood!” he spat. Draco took out his wand from his robes and pointed it at Hermione.

“Oh please,” Hermione mused as she whipped out her wand. “What kind of a threat could a ferret boy like you possibly pose?”

Draco’s face reddened and he quickly aimed his wand at Hermione. At the same moment, both Hermione and Draco blurted out the first spell they could think of.

“Expecto Patronum!”

When the two patronuses met, there was a ghastly screeching noise and a bright light exploded from where they had collided, leaving the room in darkness as the light subsided as quickly as it had come.

Hermione found herself clutching her stomach as she felt a swirling sensation take over her body. The sensation that Hermione could only describe as being sucked into a hole grew worse. She continued to ‘fall’ for what seemed like hours, though in reality it could have only been seconds. The bright light abruptly exploded again and the sensation dwindled. Though, this time no darkness followed.

Hermione looked around the room and found herself in the same dungeon classroom as before, but now it was completely empty of students. She glanced to the right and found Draco standing lopsidedly beside her and holding his hand over his stomach. His face wore the same confused expression as hers.

After a few moments of shock, Draco seemed to regain his composure and his expression immediately darkened into a grimace.

“What did you do, you Mudblood?!” Draco accused.

“What did I do?” Hermione cried. “I should be asking you the same question!”

Draco was about to reply with his own retort when there was a loud bang and the door to the classroom slammed open as it allowed students to begin filing in. Hermione studied the faces of the incoming students and frowned when she quickly realized that she recognized none of them. Draco, apparently, noticed this too, for his face had contorted so that his lips were straight and his eyes flickered with annoyance.

“This isn’t right,” Hermione muttered.

“You think?” Draco scoffed.

Hermione shot Draco a patronizing glare before turning on her heal to exit the room.

Hermione knitted her brows together and bit her lip as she tried to think of some explanation for their current situation. Something had happened when their spells had collided, and if there was one person who would know what to do, it would be Professor Dumbledore.

Draco quickly caught up with Hermione, walking beside her, though managing to remain one stride ahead of her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Draco.

“I’m going to see Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione answered in a forced tone.

“Dumbledore?” Draco cried in disgust. “That old crackpot? Why?”

“Because he will know what to do,” Hermione replied with an incredulous glare and walked faster down the winding hallways.

Draco let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed Hermione’s wrist, making her wince from his grip.

“In case you haven’t noticed yet, Granger, we don’t even know what has happened yet!”

“Well then, Dumbledore can tell us what has happened,” Hermione said through gritted teeth as she yanked her wrist from his firm hold. She immediately noticed that his grip had left a red imprint on arm that was now tingling in an uncomfortable fashion.

Hermione continued to head towards the spiraling staircase that she knew would lead her to the Headmaster’s office. Draco followed angrily, grumbling and cursing as he went.

Hermione was about to turn the corner when she heard on oddly familiar voice echoing from behind them.

“I’m telling you, Padfoot, it will be perfect!”

“I don’t know, James. It just seems as though we’ve done that before. We need something new, something fresh!”

Hermione turned around to see two boys, both tall and fairly muscular, walking towards them. The one on the right had unruly, raven black hair and sported a pair of round glasses over his hazel eyes. The other had long, straight, black hair that brushed against his broad shoulders and strong features that would make any girl sigh with pleasure.

Hermione unconsciously grabbed hold of Draco’s shirt.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Draco cried, clearly disgusted by the fact that she was touching him.

Hermione paid no notice to Draco’s obvious disgust as realization slowly dawned on her. She quickly dove into the shadows, pulling Draco with her despite his protests. Hermione waited for the two boys to turn the corner before she emerged from the dark shadows against the walls, still gripping Draco’s shirt.

“I think I know where we are,” Hermione said.

Draco swatted Hermione’s hand away as though it reeked of garbage.

“What the hell do you mean you know where we are? I think it’s kind of obvious where we are, Mudblood!”

Hermione scowled. “I meant what time period!”

Draco put on a mock congratulatory face and stepped closer to Hermione, forcing her backward towards the stone wall.

“Well congratulations, Granger. Once again, you prove yourself to be an even bigger know-it-all. Hey, maybe you should call your slaves, Weasel and Potty, to come grovel at your feet.” Draco’s face was now an inch from Hermione’s, glowering at her with intense grey eyes. He took another step towards Hermione, backing her up against the wall, trapped.

Hermione stood, frozen under his gaze. She didn’t understand. How could Malfoy have this kind of affect on her? No, she thought, Malfoy is just a vile, overconfident excuse for a man. He’s doing this to make me feel vulnerable!

“Move back, Malfoy, before I force you to!” Hermione threatened.

Draco smirked as he placed his hand firmly against the wall next to Hermione’s face and leaned on it, making Hermione gulp. “Oh really? And how, pray tell, do you expect to do that?”

Hermione stood, gawking for a moment. Draco gave his infamous Malfoy smirk, making Hermione’s eyes fill with rage. Quickly, Hermione whipped out her wand and pointed it at Draco’s gut, instantly making him back up a step.

“Well, Malfoy, I must say that I have missed the amazing, bouncing ferret. So much, in fact, that I may just bring him back.”

Draco took another involuntary step back and narrowed his eyes.

After another poke with her wand, Hermione once again charged in the direction of the Headmaster’s office with the intention of putting as much distance between her and Draco as possible.

Draco, of course, followed Hermione down the halls, but remained a good three steps behind her until they finally reached the statue that guarded the spiraling staircase.

“So, Granger, what’s the password?” Malfoy asked. He showed much pleasure at Hermione’s sudden uncertainty.

Hermione bit her lip and studied the statue. She honestly hadn’t thought of what the password could be. Though, she did remember that Dumbledore had a fancy for candy and sweets.

“Lemon drops!” Hermione tried, but the staircase remained unmoving.

Hermione sighed and tried again. “Cockroach clusters! Jelly beans! Sugar quills!”

Draco, amused by Hermione’s exasperation, snickered at each one of her failed attempts.

Hermione glared at Draco. “Would you like to try then?”

“No, no. You seem to be making a fool of yourself quite nicely,” Draco replied.

“You loathsome…” Hermione trailed off when the statue abruptly started to move on its own and revealed the staircase that lead to the Headmaster’s office.

Hermione grinned with pride and leapt onto the staircase while Draco grudgingly followed.

When the staircase finally stopped, they found themselves in a grand room with portraits of every headmaster covering the extensive, long walls. The entire room was filled with gadgets and artifacts of every sort. Hermione was surprised to find that she did not recognize more than half of the objects in the room.

“Ah, yes!” came a familiar voice from behind a large, oak desk. Surprised that they had not seen the old Headmaster earlier, Draco and Hermione jumped at the sudden voice that intruded their thoughts.

“I’ve been expecting you. We have a lot to discuss.”
________________________________________

Snape’s eyes flashed with anger and disbelief as the flash of blinding light subsided. As he had predicted, both Granger and Malfoy were now gone.

Every student in the classroom stared at the now empty space, whispering to each other and pointing to where the two patronuses had collided.

“Class dismissed!” Snape ordered.

“But…”

“You heard me, Potter, class dismissed! Everyone out!”

Snape sighed deeply as the students reluctantly left amid murmurs and forming of gossip.

After the class was empty, Snape slammed the door shut and strode over to the bookshelves that adorned the far end of the dungeon room. He ransacked the shelves as he searched for one book in particular. After minutes of searching, he pulled out a tattered, black book from the shelf. Plumes of dust billowed into the air as he dropped the book on his desk and violently searched through its pages for a particular subject.

Upon finding it, Snape narrowed his eyes and sat down.

“Animus Aduro, soul singer,” Snape muttered under his breath, “a rare, binding tie between two people that connects their souls to each other and time itself.”

Snape clenched his fists in frustration. He didn’t know much about Animus Aduro. It was ancient magic so old it was thought to be a myth. But if he was correct and this was what had caused Hermione and Draco’s disappearance, he would have no idea where they were, let alone when. The only thing that he was positive of was that wherever they were, Animus Aduro had sent them there for a reason.

“Please, sit down, sit down.” Dumbledore smiled as he motioned Draco and Hermione towards two red armchairs in front of his desk.


Hermione slowly lowered herself onto one of the chairs and crossed her legs; while Draco slumped into the one beside her and his arms crossed, deliberately making his face look bleak.


“Professor,” Hermione started, “how did you know that we were coming? You said that you were expecting us, but how can that be?”


“Yes, now that is a difficult question, Miss…”


“Granger, Hermione Granger. And this is Draco Malfoy,” Hermione answered, pointing to the sullen boy beside her. Draco merely scoffed.


“Yes, yes. Well then, that is a difficult question, Miss Granger. Believe it or not, it’s one that I will be more than happy to answer. But first, you must explain to me how you ended up in this certain…” Dumbledore paused for a moment, searching for the right word, “predicament.”


Hermione quickly explained their fight in Potions and what had happened when their patronuses had met, giving as much detail of the event as possible.


“What? You must have lost it, Granger! It was you who pushed my stool in the first place! It’s your bloody fault that we’re here!” Malfoy argued, rebuking Hermione’s version of the story.


“Oh, please!” Hermione cried. “Do you honestly believe that I don’t know it was you who wrote that six in my book! It was either you or one of your friends, or followers or henchmen or whatever you choose to call them!”


“Shut up!”


“Please! Both of you sit down!” Dumbledore asserted. His face was expressionless, but his commanding voice dripped with authority.


Hermione immediately pursed her lips, her cheeks faintly blushed with embarrassment for acting so childishly. Malfoy once again crossed his arms over his chest and his lips thinned to a perfect line. He looked like a resentful child who had been sent on a time out.


“My, my. The bond is stronger then I imagined.” Dumbledore mumbled, as though talking to himself.


“Bond?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.


“Tell me, after you found yourselves in the empty classroom, did you notice anything different?”


“Of course I noticed something different! We were in the wrong bloody time period!” Malfoy quipped.


Hermione rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t even have realized that if I hadn’t pointed it out,” Hermione muttered under her breath.


Malfoy, having heard the comment, shot daggers out of his eyes at Hermione before being interrupted by Dumbledore.


“I meant, physically. Did you notice anything…new, shall we say, about yourself that had not been present before?”


“No,” Malfoy snapped.


Hermione shook her head.


Dumbledore smiled. “Hold out your right hands, please; palm up.”


Both Draco and Hermione slowly lifted their hands up and flipped them over, palm up.


Hermione gasped. In the middle of her palm was a silvery, white mark. The spot was continually changing in shape, like a pool of water, in the contours of her hand. It was almost luminescent and seemed to dance. She slowly reached her other hand to the silvery mark and carefully ran her fingers over its surface. Even though she could not feel the substance, it rippled and followed the graceful movement of her fingers.


“What is this?” Draco exclaimed, examining his own palm which adorned the exact same mark.


“Have you ever heard of Nunzio Richeart?” Dumbledore asked, a small smile forming on his lips.


Hermione and Draco shook their heads, still transfixed by the mysterious marks on their palms.


“I’m not surprised. Nunzio Richeart was the author of The Black Book. I call it that because it had no title and no recognizable characteristic other than its onyx black cover. Inside, Richeart described ancient magic and techniques that no modern wizard of his time could ever imagine; he described magic so complex and rudimentary that no one would take him or his book seriously. Now, granted, over time most of Richeart’s ideas and theories were proven wrong, but there was one that stood out, unproven, as a mystery lost in time. This is Animus Aduro.”


“Animus Aduro?” Hermione repeated.


“It means Soul Singer, or Singer of the Soul. Richeart explained that Animus Aduro was a significant and rare bond. Time itself predestines two people, called Heirs, to share this connection. The union allows them to live normally, until Time finds need of them, at which point they would become intertwined in both destiny and fate, and in heart and soul.”


“Wait a minute,” Draco interrupted, “what are you getting at? That I’m somehow connected to Granger?”


“That’s precisely what I’m getting at,” Dumbledore replied, “but I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated. You see, according to Richeart, Heirs are not chosen at random, they are chosen for a purpose. The mark, or the bond itself, however, does not become active or prevalent until, as I said before, Time finds that the Heirs are needed. This brings us to the purpose, or job, of the Heirs.”


“Job? If you think that I’m going to perform some sort of service just because of this ludicrous mark, then you are sorely mistaken. No one and nothing will use me as a pawn in some game!” Draco affirmed.


“Mr. Malfoy, I understand that you are quite displeased with the current situation, but if you could kindly keep your complaints and rejections to yourself until I can fully explain the situation, then I will certainly see to it that you are heard afterwards.” Dumbledore stated with a small grin.


Draco immediately thinned his lips and grumbled something about respect and lack of under his breath.


It took all of Hermione’s concentration not to laugh at Dumbledore’s rejection of Draco. It’s about time someone put a needle to that oversized ego of his.


“Now, where was I…?” Dumbledore folded his hands on his desk and cocked his head to the side as if trying to remember.


“Ah, yes, your purpose. Well, the purpose of the Heirs is quite simple. We don’t know.”


Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You don’t know?”


“It’s impossible to know for sure what you have been summoned to do until it presents itself to you. Time is a tricky mistress. We do know, however, that your being sent here was not an accident. Animus Aduro brought you here at this time because there is something that you must provoke or prevent; your being here is crucial to the formation or preservation of the future. I understand that this must be a lot for you to take in. Is there anything you wish to tell me or ask?”


“You have still yet to tell us where, or when, we are,” Draco pointed out in an annoyed tone.


“Ah, yes, so sorry about that. You are at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the year 1977,” Dumbledore stated quite matter of fact.


Draco’s eyes widened at this statement, though Hermione remained unsurprised.


“Have there been any others? Other Heirs, I mean,” Hermione asked, her left hand still drawing circles on her right palm as she spoke, disturbing the silver pool.


Dumbledore sighed, “It’s hard to be positive about how many there really were. There were never any specific records of this kind of thing. However, there are records of people throughout the generations who have had similar marks as the one you wear now. Most of these cases were either ignored or known as another mystery of the magical world that would soon be forgotten.


“But, that does not mean that there were not others before you. Who knows how many cases were never reported or discovered? Richeart believed that there would be one pair of Heirs for each generation. Whether or not they would ever be needed though was questionable. There may have been many Heirs who were never bonded because their services were never needed.”


Hermione nodded her head as she mulled over this new information.


Draco shook his head and leaned forward in his chair. “There must be a mistake. I mean, Granger? There is no bloody way that I am somehow ‘connected’ to that Mudblood!” Draco protested.


Hermione scoffed, “Well, there’s no way that I could be connected to a ferret like you, Malfoy!”


Draco laughed, “Oh please, you’re probably ecstatic at the chance to be bonded to me. Admit it, you find me attractive, even though there is no chance in hell that I would ever look twice at you.”


Seething, Hermione fought the sudden urge to slap Draco across his pale, sharp face. “Malfoy, you can say that everyday if you’d like, but it won’t make it the truth,” Hermione replied with in a smooth tone that masked her rage.


Dumbledore studied the two for a moment, resting his chin on his clasped hands.


“Hmm. Yes, it is strong indeed,” Dumbledore softly remarked.


Hermione, after glaring one last time at Draco (who replied by maturely sticking his tongue out at her), turned back to the speculating Professor.


“Professor, earlier you mentioned that the ‘bond’ was stronger than you had imagined. Now, I assume that you were talking about Animus Aduro, but how did you know? That the bond was strong, I mean,” Hermione inquired.


The Headmaster smiled and directed his eyes thoughtfully at the two students sitting across from him at his desk.


“In time, when you are ready, you will know. The heart has a funny way of showing itself Miss Granger.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco asked as he glared at the cryptic Professor.


Dumbledore merely smiled once more and his eyes suddenly brightened, as though he had just remembered something so important that it was funny that he had forgotten it.


“Now, it seems that you two will be staying here for a while, so there are a few things that need to be done. First, your names,” Dumbledore began.


“What about our names?” Draco asked defensively.


“Well, they need to be changed. You said your name was Draco Malfoy, correct?” Dumbledore confirmed.


“Yeah, so?”


“Then you cannot very well go parading about as a Malfoy, a well known wizarding name, when you haven’t been born yet. You’ll create an even bigger spectacle.”


Draco looked like he was about to protest, but was cut off by the slamming of a large, red book on the Professor’s desk.


“Hmm, let’s see here…ah,” the Headmaster exclaimed with his index finger hovering over a certain line in his book, “Miss Granger, how do you feel about being Hermione Swanson?”


Hermione nodded her head in agreement, content with her new identity.


“Splendid. Now for you, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said as he flipped through half the book before stopping on a certain page and running his finger down the long list of names. “Hmm, how does Draco Elphinstone suite you?”


Draco choked on air for a second before responding, “Draco Elphinstone? What kind of a name is that?”


Hermione chuckled, “I don’t know, I kind of like it.”


Draco glared at Hermione and then back at the Headmaster.


“No? Well, how about…Draco Abendroth, is that better?” Dumbledore tried.


Draco shrugged his shoulders in modest agreement. Abendroth will probably be the best I’ll get, Draco thought.


“Brilliant,” Dumbledore exclaimed as he returned the book of names to its place on the shelf. “Now, I understand that you both have nothing but the clothes on your back, so I will see to it that extra robes and clothing as well as your necessary books and supplies will be purchased for you. What classes were you taking?”


Hermione immediately started rattling off all the classes she was taking, counting off each one on her fingers. The list was quite extensive.


“Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced Arithmancy, Advanced Herbology, Advanced History of Magic, Advanced Potions, Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, Advanced Charms, Ancient Runes…”


Dumbledore seemed unsurprised and nodded his head before turning to Draco and asking him the same question.


Draco sighed, “Same.”


Dumbledore brightened and smiled. “Splendid! You will each take the same classes and during the same period. We will sort out any complications if necessary after you are sorted.”


“Sorted?” Draco cried. “But, we already have our houses!”


“From now on, you both will be the new students from St. Patrick’s School of Magic in Ireland. This means that you will have to be sorted again in front of the school during the feast tonight.”


Draco grumbled under his breath.


“Now that everything seems to be straightened out, do you have any last questions?”


“Yes,” Hermione said, leaning forward in her seat. “When we first arrived in your office, you said that you were expecting us and you have yet to explain how. I mean, how is that even possible?”


Dumbledore raised his hand to his chin in thought. “I don’t know exactly. Whether it was from Animus Aduro or whether it was just a coincidence, I’m not sure. I was just expecting two students to come barging into my office today.”


“One more question,” Draco said. “Why did the collision of our patronuses send us back in time? Why the patronus in particular?”


“Hmm. That is another difficult question. I’m not sure whether it was the act itself of the patronuses colliding that sent you back or whether they just happened to collide at the exact moment that Animus Aduro brought you back in time. It is impossible to tell for now. Maybe later, we will know.”


Draco was still unsatisfied with this answer, but decided to back off anyways.


“Now, I have called our Head Boy and Head Girl to come and meet you here to show you to the Great Hall and help you become settled here at Hogwarts. Remember your new names and that you are transfer students from St. Patrick’s. You need to act as though you have never been here before.”


Hermione nodded. “Thank you, Professor.”


“Anytime, Miss Granger, and remember that if you ever need anything, I’m always available,” Dumbledore reminded with a smile. “Now, go down to meet your tour guides,” the Headmaster chuckled.


After Hermione thanked Dumbledore again and Draco grunted, the two made their way down the spiral staircase to the hallway below.


“Come on Evans, baby, just one date.”


“Back off, Potter.”


“Oh, feisty.”


“Honestly, Potter, what makes you think that I would ever go out with an immature prat like you?”


“You know, Evans, one of these days I’m going to prove to you that I’m not as immature as you seem to think I am.”


Hermione and Draco had heard the arguing of who they assumed were the Head Boy and Girl from inside the stairwell. They walked out into the hallway to see two students standing across the hall.


Draco recognized the boy as one of the two they had seen earlier. His hair was just as messy as before and he seemed to be messing it up more with his fingers as he talked to the red haired girl next to him. The girl seemed extremely annoyed by the boy’s futile advances and was carrying a book bag that could rival even Hermione’s in size, which was saying something.


Hermione immediately knew that this must be Lily Evans and James Potter, Harry’s parents. She tried to hold back tears as she and Draco walked towards them.


Noticing the extra company, Lily put on a smile and greeted the two.


“Hello. You must be the new students. I’m Lily Evans, Head Girl, and this,” she scowled as she pointed to the boy next to her, “is James Potter, Head Boy.”


James smiled as well and nodded at Draco and Hermione. “Welcome to Hogwarts,” James said. “You’ll love it here!”


Hermione and Draco nodded in return and introduced themselves.


“I’m Hermione Swanson, and this is Draco Abendroth. We just transferred here from St. Patrick’s School of Magic in Ireland,” Hermione explained.


“Oh, I’ve read about that school! The grounds looked gorgeous. Did you like it there?” Lily asked, genuinely interested.


“Yes,” Hermione stammered, “yes we did.”


“Then, what brought you to Hogwarts?” Lily asked.


Hermione tried to think of something to say, but was saved by Draco.


“Each of our parents just thought it would be better for us to finish our sixth and seventh years in a bigger school. Plus, it was hard to be challenged at St. Patrick’s,” Draco explained. He said it so smoothly even Hermione almost believed it was true.


“Ah, I can understand that,” James said and nodded his head.


“Oh, look what time it is! We should bring you up to the Great Hall for dinner and sorting. Follow me, it’s just up these corridors,” Lily said as she motioned them to follow her and James.


“After you, Flower,” James insisted and gave a low bow before the Head Girl.


Lily huffed angrily and glared at the Head Boy before stomping off in the direction of the Great Hall.


James, however, seemed undaunted and quickly caught up to Lily.


Draco and Hermione followed the Head Boy and Girl down the halls; although Draco did so rather reluctantly.


Hermione sighed as she walked, If only Harry were here, then he could finally meet his parents.

“After you, Flower,” James insisted and gave a low bow before the Head Girl.


Lily huffed angrily and glared at the Head Boy before stomping off in the direction of the Great Hall.


James, however, seemed undaunted and quickly caught up to Lily.


Draco and Hermione followed the Head Boy and Girl down the halls; although Draco did so rather reluctantly.


Hermione sighed as she walked, If only Harry were here, then he could finally meet his parents.
________________________________________________________________________

“Okay, now, when we enter the Great Hall the rest of the school will already be seated, but don’t be intimidated; no one will think twice about you. In fact, I’m sure that they’ll hardly even notice you,” Lily said in what was supposed to be a reassuring voice while James rolled his eyes at her. Lily shot James a nasty look, but refused to say anything else.

Draco stifled a laugh as he and Hermione followed the Head Boy and Girl to the Great Hall. Draco knew more than anyone that every eye in that hall would be glued on them from the second they walked through those grand doors.

“Here we are, the Great Hall,” James announced. “Many historic events have taken place in this room.” James looked towards the doors with a sense of respect and reverence.

Lily scoffed. “If by ‘historic events’ you mean those childish pranks that you and your friends are so keen on pulling. Then, yes.”

James chuckled and turned towards Hermione and Draco before Lily could say another word.

“You ready?”

Hermione gulped and Draco looked indifferent. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Draco drawled in a bored tone.

“Let’s.” James then swung open the large double doors and strode into the Great Hall with ease. Lily followed him with the same sense of ease, but not as much enthusiasm.

Hermione glanced at the different tables as they made their way to the front. Everything looked very much the same. The house tables were in the same order, and the same vision of a stormy sky lay above them. Hermione looked straight ahead to see the Sorting Hat sitting precariously on a large stool. She remembered that stool from her first year. Smiling, Hermione recalled her first evening at Hogwarts. The most vivid memory she had of that day was walking alone up to that stool that stood in front of the entire school. Now, even though Hermione was a sixth year, the stool looked just as big and daunting to her as it had that first day.

Lily and James led them straight to the front of the hall and stopped a few feet from the steps. Lily gave them a reassuring smile and looked up towards Professor Dumbledore, who was now standing in front of the small podium.

“Students, now that everyone has gathered and we are ready to eat, it is time that we welcome two more students to our school; two sixth years that have taken the opportunity to transfer here from St. Patrick’s School of Magic. Please, welcome Miss Hermione Swanson and Mr. Draco Abendroth. When you have the chance help them feel at home in our halls. I am quite confident that none of you will take this as an opportunity to pull any tricks that would make this school seem any less credible.” As Dumbledore said this, he seemed to make direct eye contact with James and someone else who must have been seated behind them. James merely smirked and put his hand over his heart, as though in a gesture of compliance. Hermione only had seconds to view James’ crossed fingers behind his back.

“Now,” Dumbledore continued, “it is with great pleasure that I ask Miss Swanson to please step forward and wear the Sorting Hat.”

Hermione took a deep breath and climbed the few steps before reaching the stool. Come on, Hermione. You’ve done this before, she thought. Just place it on your head and get it over with.

With that, Hermione picked up the hat and situated it on her head as she took a seat on the stool.

“Hmm, let’s see,” the hat began. “It seems you are a very studious young girl. Yes, studious indeed. You’d do well in Ravenclaw. Yes, very well.”

Hermione was about to protest when she realized that Ravenclaw didn’t seem all that bad. It wasn’t Gryffindor, that was for sure, but it was a close second.

“Wait, what is this I see?” the hat continued. “Yes, you’re very stubborn, aren’t you? Yes, studious, but very stubborn. Maybe Ravenclaw is not your suit, no. Hufflepuff, perhaps?”

Hermione stifled a gasp and clasped her fingers. It wasn’t that she had anything against Hufflepuff, she just knew that she wouldn’t be able to stand it for much longer than a month, if that.

“No, no, you’re too strong willed for gentle Hufflepuff,” the hat decided. Hermione sighed in relief and bit her lip, waiting for the hat to finish.

“Well, with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff out, that leaves only two house left: Gryffindor or Slytherin. Hmm, decisions, decisions. Well, there seems to be only one place for you…”

Hermione crossed her fingers and closed her eyes. Please let it be Gryffindor, please.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Hermione exhaled deeply in relief as the rest of the hall clapped and cheered. Hermione got off the stool and set the hat carefully on top before making her way to the Gryffindor table among the yelling and chanting of her house. Hermione took a seat beside Lily, who had already been seated along with James. Lily congratulated her as did James. Lily seemed uncomfortable and irritated by the fact that James had seated himself across from her.

“Now,” Dumbledore said, quieting the deafening hall, “Mr. Abendroth, please step forward.”

Draco made his way up the steps and forcefully placed the Sorting Hat over his blonde hair before sitting on the stool and crossing his legs. Even though his facial expression showed nothing but blank boredom, Hermione could see a bit of anxiousness in the way that he held himself and continually tapped his foot in the air. Hermione tried not to laugh at the sight of Draco acting so nervous. Some Slytherin king he is now.

Draco rolled his eyes as the hat started to speak inside his head.

“Well, well. There’s no doubt that I’ve seen your kind before. A proud bunch, if I do recall…”

“Can we just get this over with?” Draco demanded in an annoyed tone.

“Yes, you are indeed a Malfoy. I can tell one of your kind from a mile away. All your minds function alike. But worry not, your secret is safe with me.”

“I’m so relieved to hear you say that,” Draco replied sarcastically. “Now, once again, can we get a move on with this?”

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” the hat asked in a rhetorical manner.

“I am not!”

“Don’t bother lying to me, boy. I’ve seen it all. Well, since you are so eager to get this over with, let’s see what we have here. My first instinct would be to place you in Slytherin, as I’m sure you already expect.”

“Exactly,” Draco said in an exasperated voice. “So what’s the hold up?”

“There is something different about you. Yes, very different indeed,” the hat continued thoughtfully. “I suppose I could put you in Slytherin; there is no doubt you would do fine there. But I have a feeling that you would do even better elsewhere.”

“What?” Draco hissed. “What do you mean I could do better elsewhere? I’m a Slytherin, and that is where I will go.”

“So sure, are you?”

“More than you are. Now, can you please announce Slytherin, so I can go eat? My stomach is growling.”

“Stubborn, indeed. Yes, you would do well in that house. I see great things for your future, Draco, and I see them in red and gold. I think that I will put you there.”

“You see them in red and gold? What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it means. Pride is a dangerous trait, my boy. One you can overcome with the right assistance. Yes, this is for the best.”

“What’s for the best!” Draco snarled.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“WHAT!” Draco yelled, surprise etched on every feature of his face.
________________________________________________________________________

“WHAT!” Hermione cried.

“You seem surprised, Hermione,” Lily said with a confused expression.

“Surprised would be an understatement,” James muttered under his breath, just barely audible to Lily’s ears. Lily glared at James and turned back to Hermione.

“Aren’t you glad that your friend got sorted into the same house?” Lily asked, struggling to make herself heard over the loud cheers of the Gryffindor table.

“Oh, of course I am, I’m just a bit surprised, that’s all. I never thought we would be lucky enough to be placed in the same house,” Hermione replied, battling to keep her disappointment and frustration inside. How on earth did Draco get sorted into Gryffindor? Has the Sorting Hat gone mad?

“Oh,” Lily said, “Well, congratulations then. Now, you won’t have to be separated.”

Hermione managed to smile at Lily as Draco appeared on the other side of the table looking positively shell shocked. Draco lowered himself on the bench and wrung his fingers in his hair in a frustrated motion.

“Are you alright there, mate? You don’t look too good,” James asked as he playfully socked Draco in the upper arm.

Draco grimaced. “I’m fine. I guess I’m just worn out,” Draco replied in a monotone voice.

“Then, this will cheer you up,” James assured as he grabbed his fork and held it readily in his hand. Lily rolled her eyes and muttered to Hermione, “Adolescent boys and food; it’s a disgusting relationship.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. She remembered all the times that she had watched in horror as Ron and Harry stuffed their mouths to the brim with food of every kind. Hermione’s smile dimmed when she thought of Ron and Harry at Hogwarts. I wonder when, or if, we’ll ever get back.

Shortly after the feast, James had departed on the pretense of ‘introducing his new acquaintance to some inspirational companions.’ Needless to say, Draco was not thrilled about being dragged by his enemy’s father, not that he was in any way thrilled beforehand. Hermione had merely watched with a smirk as Draco and his contemptuous mood was pulled through the dense crowd in the Great Hall.


“Well, since we are finally free of male influence, how about we go meet the girls?” Lily asked after they had finally made their way through the tumultuous crowd. “I hope you don’t mind, but due to class numbers, both you and Draco will be staying in seventh year dorms instead of sixth.”


Hermione nodded her approval and felt a small weight lift off her shoulders. At least she would have one some-what familiar face as a roommate. It was funny; Hermione couldn’t help but feel that she had met Lily before.


“Here we are, Gryffindor Tower,” Lily announced as they approached the familiar portrait of the Fat Lady, who was apparently just as boisterous as in the future before, as she kept four young first years from entering in order for them to hear her remarkable voice. Hermione cringed as she heard the unrelenting strains being emitted from the canvas’ inhabitant. Equally unfortunate, the Fat Lady’s voice was still as dreadful as Hermione had remembered.


Lily strode up to the portrait and placed a large smile on her face. “My goodness, was that your voice I just heard from down the hall? You are getting better and better every week,” Lily complemented, her voice sweet, though a little over the top to be completely believable. The Fat Lady, however, failed to notice any hint of insincerity.


“Why thank you, my dear,” the portrait said, blushing with pride. “Though I’m afraid my voice is not what it once was.”


Hermione had to hold her breath and bite her cheek to keep from scoffing at the Fat Lady’s unashamed attempt at fishing for compliments. Lily, however, continued with her act.


“Nonsense, and I’d hate to interrupt your demonstration, but we have had such a long day and are quite tired. I do wish I could stay and listen, but with classes starting soon and all…” Lily trailed off innocently.


The portrait smiled and put her hand to her heart in an exaggerated fashion. “Why of course, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your beauty sleep.”


“Thank you. Giggling Hornbies.”


The Fat Lady accepted the password and swung open, smiling at Lily and Hermione as they walked through, and sending looks of disdain as the four first years slipped into the common room as well.


“Whenever she starts on one of her demonstrations, a little sweet talk will always do the trick,” Lily explained once they were safely inside.


Huh, it really hasn’t changed much, Hermione thought as she followed Lily into the Gryffindor common room. The shades of red and gold that adorned the room were just as vibrant as Hermione had remembered. Even the big, cushy sofas and armchairs were arranged exactly as they were in the future. She did notice that there were a few stains and scorch marks that were missing from certain sofas and tapestries, no doubt because it would be some time before Fred and George arrived at Hogwarts.


“The dormitories are up those stairs, girls’ to the right and boys’ to the left. We’ll be in the room marked Seventh Year Girls,” Lily said as Hermione followed up the steps.


When they finally reached the right door, Hermione saw a giant, hand written sign that read ‘Home of the Prowling Lionesses. Brainless Lions Beware!’ Hermione giggled at the sign and Lily grinned at her reaction.


“Like it? Lor came up with it one night and we decided to make it stick!” Lily explained with a laugh. “You’ll meet her now, she’s quite the character.”


Lily threw open the door, which slammed unceremoniously against the wall with a loud crash. Hermione walked in just in time to see a small, brunette girl flip backwards off her bed in surprise. The other two who had been sitting with the girl erupted into giggles.


“Bloody hell, Lily! I could have been seriously injured!” the girl complained as she gingerly sat up and once again resumed her seat on the bed, all the while rubbing her lower back.


“Sorry, Lor. Girls, this is Hermione,” Lily introduced, pulling Hermione forward. “Hermione, these are the girls. That klutz over there is Lor, short for Loralie,” she said pointing to the brunette who had tumbled to the floor. Lor rolled her eyes at Lily’s introduction and smiled at Hermione, nodding her welcome.


“And that one on the left is Alice,” Lily said as she motioned towards a pretty blonde who was sitting with her legs crossed and a chocolate bar in her lap. Hermione, realizing who this was, held back a sudden lump that had appeared in the back of her throat. She didn’t want to think about what the young woman in front of her would endure, and blocked an image of Neville Longbottom from entering her mind.


Instead, Hermione waved shyly at the blonde, who waved back. “And last but not least, the brunette to the right is Michelle,” Lily finished. Michelle smiled as well and welcomed Hermione to Hogwarts.


“Your bed will be that one over there,” Alice said, pointing to a bed directly in the middle. “You’ll be between me and Lor, but if she starts snoring just throw a pillow at her head. She’ll usually roll to her side after a small fit.”


“Yes, and one of these days I’ll have you experience waking up in the middle of the night to a pillow landing on your head!” Lor exclaimed, sending her own pillow at Alice for punctuation.


Hermione was surprised at how comfortable she felt around these girls. She took a seat on the neighboring bed beside Lily, and laughed with the group. She was suddenly aware of why Lily had seemed so familiar. Lily reminded Hermione so much of Ginny. It’s no wonder Harry fell for her.


Hermione was jerked from her thoughts when she received a question from Michelle.


“What?” Hermione asked, stunned, to say the least.


“You heard me! What’s going on with you and that blonde hottie with a body? What was his name, Draco? Anyway, he’s one fine boy,” Michelle exclaimed. The rest of the girls seemed to agree enthusiastically.


“And did you see his biceps? I only got a glimpse when he crossed his arms, but Merlin! I would have fainted had it not been for his robes acting as an annoying cover!” Lor added as she pretended to fan herself.


“I know! So tell us, is he your boyfriend or something?” Michelle asked again.


“Or a friend with benefits, maybe?” Lor threw in with a devilish smile.


“Me and Draco?” The words seemed so foreign and vile on Hermione’s tongue. “No, no, no. We’re merely…friends is all. Nothing else,” Hermione exclaimed with exuberance. And even friends isn’t anywhere near the truth.


“Wait,” Lily said as she held up her hand. “You mean to tell me that he is currently unattached? Available? Single?” Lily asked, each word voiced with more disbelief and excitement than the last.


“I guess,” Hermione replied, extremely uncomfortable with the current conversation. “Though I don’t know why anyone would want to date him, he’s such a pompous git.”


“I’ll be the judge of that!” Lor said with a wicked grin.


Lily rolled her eyes. “She does have a low standard, that’s for sure.”


“I do not! I merely have a thing for lost causes!” Lor retorted in an attempt to justify herself, an attempt that was lost on the four girls around her.


“Call it what you want, but it doesn’t matter, because I call him,” Michelle announced.


“You can’t call him! Besides what about Remus?” Lily asked, laughing. By now, even Hermione found herself laughing at the girls’ antics.


“Of course I can! And Remus hasn’t made his move yet, so until he does, it’s goodbye Remus and hello Sexy!” Michelle exclaimed, throwing her pillow in the air.


The rest of the night was spent in a similar fashion. Hermione couldn’t believe how much she was enjoying herself. Usually, it was only Ginny who was able to pull Hermione away from her studies and force her into a girl’s night, though Hermione always secretly relished those rare occasions. Now, she found herself joining in freely, and couldn’t help but wonder what Draco was doing right now, though she was certain he wouldn’t be happy. He would make sure of that himself.

---

“I can’t believe you dumped a girl because her eyes were too close together!” Draco exclaimed as he laughed in hysterics.


After the feast, James had dragged Draco out of the Great Hall where they met up with three other Gryffindor boys, each who looked to be seventeen, except maybe for the portly blonde, who Draco could have mistaken for an overgrown second year he looked so sickeningly boyish. The other two looked vaguely familiar, and it wasn’t until after James had introduced them that Draco recognized his third year DADA professor, Remus Lupin, and the notorious murderer, his mother’s estranged cousin, Sirius Black.


Draco was surprised as he also noticed that Lupin, though still tattered and worn looking, appeared to be quite better off in youth, for Draco dully noticed that he wasn’t half bad when it came to looks. Even James was well off. Sirius, on the other hand, had the air of an all-out lady’s man with his long, dark hair. Or perhaps player would be the more correct term? Draco had a suspicion that this boy had never kept a girl for longer than a week, truly a man of his own heart. How sickening was that? Draco felt his stomach clench.


Deciding that it would be best in the long run, Draco begrudgingly decided to forge a friendship with these men, as weak and false as it would be. He was stuck here, so he might as well milk it for all it was worth. Who knew, he might even come out with extra ammunition to use against Potter.


After the somewhat quick and informal introductions, Draco found himself being led to a giant portrait of a fruit bowl. James had gone up and tickled the pear, which caused the painting to swing forward. Draco was amazed and slightly embarrassed that he had not known about this entrance into the kitchens. I bet Potter and his Weasel friend even know about it, he thought in disgust.


Needless to say, after a long trek to the top of one of the north towers carrying mountains of plunder and eight butterbeers later, Draco found himself to be quite enjoying his company, though his was positive this felling would wash away with the Butterbeer in the morning.


“I’m serious! Besides, she wasn’t that great at snogging either, especially for a Hufflepuff,” Sirius confirmed, his swaying arm conveying that his eleven butterbeers had indeed taken affect.


James and Draco laughed even louder at this, while Remus, who was still on his third bottle, shook his head.


“One of these days, Padfoot, you’re going to find yourself a girl, a girl that you actually care about, and you’ll just throw her away like every other girl you date, if dating is even the right term for what you do,” Remus lectured, taking another sip of his half-full drink.


“Oh, Moony, Moony. One of these days you will finally date one of those girls who so obviously vie for you. And when that day comes, I will toast you for having finally made your first shag!”
Sirius announced, holding his now empty bottle up in the air for emphasis. Remus, however, was not amused.


“But seriously, Moony,” James started, his words half slurred for he was currently following behind Sirius on his tenth bottle. “When will you finally ask Michelle out? She’s not going to wait forever, mate.”


Remus blushed. “Let’s just drop this, shall we?”


“Touchy, touchy,” Sirius replied, swinging his bottle in his hands before he finally lost his grip and the bottle went flying and narrowly missed Peter’s head.


“By the way,” Sirius said, turning towards Draco, “what’s up with you and that bushy haired ? She was quite a looker!”


Draco choked on his butterbeer. “Who, Hermione? No way, are you kidding?”


“What?” Sirius asked in mock defense. “She did look hot.”


Draco shook his head. “No, no. Nothing more than platonic friendship there,” he replied, inwardly cringing at the idea of calling the little Mudblood his friend.


“Oh, so she’s free game?” Sirius asked in all sincerity.


James snorted and threw his empty bottle. “Blimey, mate, you waste no time do you?” he asked, laughing as he reached for a full bottle.


Sirius grinned and placed his hands behind his head. “You know me. Waste not, want not.” Remus sighed as the other three boys broke into hysterics.


Sirius too grabbed another full bottle. “I’ve dated the entire seventh year female population. I’m telling you, I’ve accomplished things most men have only dreamed of.”


James shook his head and pointed his finger repeatedly at Sirius as he finished gulping down his butter beer. “Not true! You still haven’t dated Loralie Stevens!”


“Who’s this Loralie Stevens?” Draco asked, his speech slow and forced.


“She’s the only seventh year girl Padfoot hasn’t dated, that’s who!” James answered. “And I’ll tell you why! He’s bloody scared of her!” James said, having barely finished his sentence due to his insistent laughter.


“I’m not scared of her!” Sirius shouted. “I just haven’t gotten around it yet!”


“Yeah right.” James snorted. “I’ll never believe that excuse!”


“Wait, aren’t there two seventh year girls whom Padfoot hasn’t dated?” All heads turned towards Peter, who had said nothing until this point.


“Who’s the other?” Draco asked, curious as to where this was going.


“Well, Michelle, right?” Peter stammered. His voice sounded shaky and unsure, even though he had yet to finish one bottle of butterbeer.


“I dated her!” Sirius exclaimed. “I dated her in fifth year.”


“Actually,” James countered, barely holding in his laughter, “I’m not sure that counted as a date.”


“Sure it did!”


“You weren’t even halfway to Hogsmead when she kneed you under the belt and left you lying in the snow!”


Draco burst out laughing and was immediately joined by James. Even Remus chuckled at James’ verification. Peter continued to sip his butterbeer, watching in silence.


“What the bloody hell did you do?” Draco asked, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.


“All I did was tell her that if she played her cards right, she’d get an evening she would never forget. I told her the truth and nothing else. What’s so wrong with that?” Sirius replied, genuinely confused.


“Good for her,” Remus said. “That was a horrid thing to say, Padfoot.”


“See, he’s totally into Michelle! I told you!” James attempted to whisper, but ended up yelling all the same.


Remus groaned. “You have had seriously too much to drink.”


“Who’s had me to drink?” Sirius asked, looking around the circle of boys.


“I rest my case,” Remus said, as Draco and James merely erupted in another fit of laughter.


Draco laughed so hard that his stomach was starting to hurt. Merlin, tomorrow morning is going to be hell, he thought.

---

A/N:

Yes, I know, it's been a while since my last update. I haven't abandoned this story though, and I don't plan to! Special thanks to all those who have reviewed my story, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your comments! Hope you liked this chapter!