Hermione was late. It was her least favorite feeling, she thought as she rushed down an empty corridor to the dungeons, especially when she was late to her least favorite teacher’s class.

Professor Flitwick had held her back to discuss her most recent essay. Even though she had a note from Flitwick in her hand for Snape, she was sure it wouldn’t matter. This would be yet another opportunity for him to humiliate her.

As she rounded another corner, her feet stuttered to a halt. Ahead, she could hear the sounds of a boy jeering and the unmistakable cry of a hex finding its mark. When the rest of the hallway came into view, she saw a Slytherin girl her age trying to push herself up off the ground. Her green eyes were wide with fear and fury as she pushed her black hair out of her face.

“Come on, snake ,” a sixth year Gryffindor Hermione didn’t recognize sneered. “Show me your fangs.”

Hermione’s blood ran cold. This was what Malfoy had been talking about. It had been a few weeks since her run in with him in the library and though neither of them had acknowledged what happened, she still felt that there had been some shift between them. He didn’t antagonize her anymore, didn’t sneer in her direction, and she was almost sure the other day she had heard him telling a fellow Slytherin off for calling her a mudblood.

She refocused, recognizing the Slytherin girl on the ground who was trying to crawl away from the older students as Pansy Parkinson. Her wand had been knocked from her hand – Hermione spied it a few yards away in a small alcove.

As the boy lifted his wand to jinx her, Hermione didn’t think.

“ Petrificus totalus!” she yelled, brandishing her wand.

His limbs locked together as he tipped over sideways, facing the stone wall.

Hermione rushed over, grabbing Pansy’s wand and then kneeling beside the girl. There was a cut on the side of her cheek from where she’d hit the stone floor and Hermione was sure she would probably be bruised on her knees as well.

“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly, handing Pansy back her wand.

Pansy’s eyes were wide, her hand shook slightly as she accepted it. It seemed like she had to swallow a few times before answering in a curt voice.

“I’m fine.”

“That was totally out of order. I can’t believe he did that – I’m so sorry, Pansy.” Hermione was babbling in her anxiety.

Pansy waved a manicured hand, as if shooing a fly.

“Stop it, Granger, I don’t need your pity.” She smoothed her black bob from her face, trying to subtly wipe the tears.

Hermione stilled. It was almost the same thing Malfoy had said to her a few nights ago. She couldn’t say she was surprised at how Pansy was acting.

“You don’t have my pity, Pansy. I’m furious for you. I hope he hit his head hard on the way down.” She glared at the boy in question behind them.

Something shifted in Pansy’s expression when she read the blood thirsty expression on Hermione’s face. When Hermione got to her feet and offered Pansy her hand, she was surprised when Pansy didn’t wave it off.

“Do you want me to heal that for you? So you don’t have to go to Pomphrey?” Hermione asked, gesturing to the gash on the girl’s cheek.

Pansy pursed her lips. “Have you ever healed a cut before? That’s advanced for our year.”

Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Of course I have. Draco didn’t have a problem with me fixing his broken nose a few weeks ago nor did Theo with his broken fingers.” Her mouth shut with an audible click as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

Pansy’s eyes widened. Hermione was sure it had to do with the fact that she had just used Malfoy’s first name, and wondered when she’d started to allow herself to think of him that way. But then Pansy surprised her.

“That was you? ” She hissed.

Hermione swallowed and after a moment’s hesitation, nodded.

Pansy’s expression softened as she appraised Hermione. Then she sighed.

“That would be great, if you could heal it.” She blinked a few times. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

Hermione smiled. “I don’t mind at all, here, hold still.”

After she set Pansy right and helped her to clean the blood from her shirt, they both walked together towards the dungeons. Before they got to the door, Pansy stopped.

“Thank you, Granger. Not just for me… but for the boys too.” She was looking at the ground, toeing a loose stone beneath them.

The thank you brought Hermione up short. It hadn’t been something she was ever expecting to hear from her. Her cheeks burned with chagrin as she realized how much the prejudices of the houses worked both ways.

Why did it have to be like this?

“Of course, Pansy. Don’t mention it,” Hermione answered quickly with a wave of her hand.

Pansy turned to her then, grabbing her upper arm.

“No, really, Granger. Thank you . I won’t forget this,” she promised.

Hermione nodded. Pansy dropped her hand from her arm and without another word entered into the Potions classroom leaving Hermione gaping in the hallway.

Why did it have to be like this?

…

She didn’t forget about the Slytherins. One afternoon at lunch she had looked up to see Malfoy staring at her. He’d given her a small smile that had made her cheeks turn scarlet before she returned it quickly. Beside him, Pansy waved at her once before resting her chin on her fist and looking in a dreamy way towards the Ravenclaw table.

The longer she went, the more she saw the disparity around her. The Slytherins were people just like the rest of them – why were they automatically lumped in with criminals? What did it mean when there were people even in her own house that seemed to think along the same lines about blood purity?

Take Ron – even though his family were considered blood traitors, she could still see his prejudices. No one was perfect and it seemed entirely unfair that their side , as Ron put it, was somehow the good guys.

She was sure that if Ron knew that one of his favorite teachers was a werewolf – something she discovered after Snape set them an essay while covering for Professor Lupin – he wouldn’t be such a big fan.

But for the sake of their friendship, she bit her tongue when Seamus, Ron, Harry, and Neville started bashing the Slytherins. She didn’t want to be left out in the cold again.

It was difficult to defend Malfoy in her head when he was actively trying to get Hagrid’s hippogriff murdered. He had provoked the creature, but didn’t think it was right that he’d laid on the ground bleeding for a good five minutes until she’d finally shrieked at Hagrid to do something. Even then, he’d taken his time picking the injured boy off the ground and slowly ambled up to the castle.

“It’s not funny, Ron. He could have been seriously injured,” she had hissed at him.

“Good,” Ron had answered resolutely.

When Hermione had groaned in frustration and turned from him, it was to see Pansy, Theo, Blaise Zabini, and Daphne Greengrass all staring at her. She’d bristled at first, but the tension had melted away when she saw looks of commiseration on their faces.

She’d given them a sad smile and a nod, which they all returned before heading up to the castle.

…

She had thought given her interactions with Malfoy that perhaps he would turn over a new leaf, especially after his run in with the hippogriff. But she was wrong.

A few days after he’d been released from the hospital wing, Malfoy was still sporting an unnecessary sling. It was nearing the end of a particularly torturous potions class where Malfoy had focused Harry and Ron to help him prepare his potions ingredients due to his “injured arm” all while Malfoy sneered and jabbed at them in a whisper.

“I’d be surprised if that great big oaf even lasted a few more weeks after my father deals with this,” he hissed.

“Leave Hagrid alone , Malfoy,” Harry gritted back at him.

“Dumbledore must be losing his marbles to let a freak like that teach at this school.” Malfoy’s eyes danced with malice.

Hermione’s stomach twisted as she watched him. Those eyes that had been so kind, so full of warmth and pride, were now ice cold and dead inside. She remembered what he had said – it’s easier than feeling like… this – and disappointment reared through her.

At the end of the lesson after Harry and Ron had packed up their belongings and quickly fled the dungeon, Hermione took her time cleaning her work station until only Malfoy, Theo, and Daphne were left in the classroom.

“Why do you choose to be this way?” she said after the door of the classroom closed, taking Ravenclaw Michael Corner with it.

She turned to face Malfoy, who’s face she realized had lost all of its bravado. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, grey eyes flicking between her, Theo, and Daphne. Neither of them spoke up in his defense and from the looks on their faces, she wondered if this wasn’t a regular topic of conversation.

In the silence that followed she hoisted her bag higher up her shoulder and pressed her potions book tightly to her chest like a shield.

“You are so much better than this, Draco.” She didn’t miss the shiver that passed through him as he heard her use his given name. “You could be so much more than this.”

Without waiting for a response she left the room. She left the room so quickly, however, that she missed the tears that pooled in Draco’s grey eyes and eventually spilled over onto the tabletop.

…

It was nearing exam time when she finally spoke with the Slytherins again. Hermione was rushing from the great hall after dinner and tripped, her bag and books flying everywhere.

“Come on, Hermione,” Ron whined. “ Hurry up .”

Flustered, she tried to gather her things but her parchments had been scattered.

“Just go on without me,” she huffed. “I’ll catch you up.”

Without another word the boys left her and she sighed. She was just reaching for the last book when she realized a pale hand with a silver ring was extending it out to her.

“Okay, Granger?” Draco asked smoothly.

She nodded, looking up at him. A few paces behind she saw Blaise, Theo, Pansy, all hanging back waiting for him. But she looked around, realizing she was still missing a few pieces of parchment.

“I’ve got it here, don’t worry,” a girl said from behind her, her voice sweet and kind.

When Hermione pivoted, still on her knees, she saw Daphne Greengrass was extending parchments she had neatly formed into a pile for her.

“Oh, thank you,” Hermione said, sliding them back into her bag.

Draco extended a hand towards her, helping her to her feet. A shock of electricity jolted through arm as their hands touched and she fought back a shiver. Once he dropped his hand, she realized he’d left a small scrap of paper in her palm.

“See you around,” Draco said with a little nod.

“Uh… See you…” Hermione replied, blinking.

A delicate hand patted her shoulder.

“Hope to see you soon, Hermione!” Daphne said, catching up with the rest of the group.

As Hermione climbed the stairs back to the common room, she finally unrolled the small note Draco had slipped her.

Our spot – 7 o’clock